The Untold Stories of the Snake and the Rabbit
by Clara Kingsley
Summary: A collection of bonus stories from my fic "A Dark Lord is Born"
1. Chapter 1

Bonus Story 1

Her Hazel Eyes

Tom Riddle was walking quite reluctantly in the two straight line of kids who were weaving their way in and out of hospital patrons and staff's way. The whole orphanage had come on this snowy December afternoon to visit Billy Stubb. He had "accidently" fallen down the stairs and had broken his leg, after an argument with Tom. He had stolen Tom's book and called him a 'bookworm'. Normally, Tom wouldn't have cared much, ignore the idiocy like he usually did. However, that book was the only book in the vicinity without the frequent use of the words 'rainbow' and 'sunshine' in it and it was his. It wasn't really that interesting of a book, but it was still his. So, Tom took action.

Although, he honestly wouldn't have done it if knew that it would lead to all these frequent visits to the hospital. Ever since the incident Mrs. Cole had been dragging him along on any trips she went, in hopes that he would apologize. He hadn't confessed to doing it, naturally, but Mrs. Cole always blamed the serious incidents on him. And she was right to. He always did it. To much of her dismay, however, he and Billy merely glared at each other every time she tried. Tom hated hospitals. The place reeked of death and disease. It felt like just breathing in the air would kill you in an instant.

He discreetly dethatched himself from the group of grim faced orphans and went to go find something interesting to do. Suddenly, he was passed by a pair of nurses, rushing by with extremely worried expressions. Tom speed walked behind them, knowing they were to in a frenzy to look back. He was curious to find out what had them in such dismay.

"Was it 2-C again? Honestly, that girl is more trouble to keep alive then she is to heal."

"She's a monster. Sometimes I think we should just put the poor thing out of her misery."

"_2-C? Huh?"_

What made her so miserable? Were they really planning to just hack her off? Perhaps, he should go and tell this girl that hey suggested killing her. Maybe she'd go in a psychotic rage and start throwing needles at him. It all sounded a lot more interesting than visiting Billy for the billionth time for something as trivial as a broken leg. On that note, he stopped following the nurses and went to find room 2-C.

_2-A, 2-B…Ah! Here it is 2-C._

Tom peered inside the room ever so carefully, so as not to be spotted by whoever was inside. Although, once he peered out far enough, he realized he did not need to hide. A white bandage was wrapped around the fabled girl's head, covering her eyes. Tom had only taken one step into the room when his whole heart stopped. It was too impossible of a coincidence. It was _her_, or it appeared to be her. He couldn't really tell without being able to see her eyes. The girl from no more than a year ago, the strange one from the bushes. She stared straight at him, well looked his way really, with her bandaged eyes.

"Who's there?" the girl asked, in the singsong sort of voice that seemed to drip sweetness. Her voice only amplified his suspicions. Although, who could remember really? It was over a year ago. Besides, even if it was her, why would it matter? She looked to be nothing more than a dying soul now. Yet he remained curious and did not run away.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she asked, again. Perhaps, Tom could use her lack of sight to his advantage. He searched around the room, until he spotted the name _Doctor Harry Fields _written on a sheet of paper, taped to the open door.

"My name is, Harry."

"My doctor?" the girl questioned, sounding confused. Her hearing was obviously astute from her lack of sight, Tom's lying would just have to be better.

"No. A different one," Tom replied, breezily. He was only seven, soon to be eight, and he could already lie straight-faced and without hesitation. "We've met before though."

"We have!" the girl gasped, in astonishment.

"Sort of…" he replied, taken aback by her sudden surprise.

"Come sit down and tell me about it. I want to know." she exclaimed, patting a spot on the bed beside her, unable to see the chair just a few feet from it. As tempting an offer it was, Tom took up the chair and decided to tell the girl of their meeting. The true story, surprisingly,

"It was the over a year ago…"

"Wow! So, that's how I used to act. I can't believe I've learned so much about myself today. The doctors can't tell me anything—"

"What are you talking about? It was only a year ago. Can't you remember?" Tom argued. Surely, if she had been held up in her house all of her life, she would remember meeting another person in her life. She had even promised that she would come back to see him again. He used to feel nothing about such a trivial meeting, however, now he felt a slight singe of guilt. Maybe if he had just let her stay at the orphanage this wouldn't have happened to her. This whole thing could've potentially been his fault.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Harry." the girl apologized, sensing Tom's anger and believing that it was being directed at her. "It's not the only thing I can't remember. My brain is damaged. Whatever accident I was in made it so I have trouble remembering things from my past."

"What happened? Didn't they at least tell you that?"

"I'm sure they did once, but I can't remember."

"Is there anything that you can remember?"

"Not really."

"Why do you have bandages over your eyes? Are you really blind?" Tom asked, curiously. It was honestly an evasive question to change the subject, he already knew the answer. She hadn't been blind when they met. She had these beautifully colored eyes that he had first mistakenly thought belonged to a bush.

"The doctor said it was only temporary at first, but it's on the track to becoming permanent." the girl sighed, sounding pitiful and defeated.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's alright. I'm not afraid."

"Not of the nurses or doctors…?" Tom questioned. He remembered the nurses whispering in the hallway and the real reason he had come here. He had come here thinking he would meet a monster. However, this girl wasn't the monstrous one, they were. Why would they even suggest such a thing? "You should be."

"Is that why you came to see me? I take it since we only met once you didn't really come here to see me."

"They said you were trouble they said it'd be easier to kill you. I thought it'd be interesting..."

"I'm sure they were talking about my attacks I have when I remember something. I hear that I can get quite scary when I'm in them. That's usually when I forget everything again," the girl explained, nonchalantly, even though it sounded like a very serious matter. "Do you remember what color my eyes were?"

"Hazel. They matched the color of your hair."

"Well, I don't remember what color my hair is, but I'm sure it's a lovely color."

"It's not hideous," Tom added. When it had been actually taken care of, it hadn't been too bad. Although, the same couldn't be really be said right now. It was unwashed, long and straggling in some parts, she looked like something that came out of a child's nightmare, truthfully. But he wouldn't be that honest with her, "Don't your parents ever come visit you to tell you these type of things?"

"I only get one other visitor. He sure acts like a father, he must be mine," she replied, with somewhat of a smile. "It's rather odd, but when he's here, it feels like I can see them. I imagine he has long auburn hair and half-moon spectacles."

"That doesn't look anything like you do." Tom answered, bluntly. The fictional man she just described looked like an insane person, to him, and like someone who could be thought up of in a girl's imagination. What on earth did that man say or do to give her that kind of image of him?

"I suppose your right, but then again, it's just my imagination. I know I can't actually see him," the girl grimaced, sending another wave of guilt washing towards Tom. He had destroyed any possibility of a smile returning to her face with just one sentence. Usually, this would've been somewhat of a victory. He made girls at the orphanage cry without even saying a word. She was different though, he had sensed it when they met in the garden. Her smile was magic. And for killing it, he was truly a wicked person. "Yet it's strange. It feels so real. It almost feels like magic."

"Magic? That's absurd. There's no such thing." he scoffed, cruelly. Although, by some standards, Tom's powers could probably be considered magic. He just never considered them as such. Magic seemed like it was something ultimately good and wonderful. His powers brought nothing but destruction.

"I suppose your right. If he was magic, if I was magic, surely I would be well by now." she sighed, wistfully. He didn't like that expression on her face, it was a sad and pitiful one. She was supposed to have gotten out, she was supposed to be smiling, happy and free. However, now her situation was even worst. He never thought he'd meet someone who had a more miserable life in the world then him, but this girl came rather close. He pitied her and he was not one to pity anything other than himself, at times. It wasn't fair. Tom suddenly grabbed onto her wrist. Normally, he'd want to vomit touching someone else, let alone someone in a hospital, but he just felt like he needed to help her. He concentrated and tried to use his powers. It seemed much harder trying to use them for good intentions.

"I promise you'll get better now…" he whispered, as he interlocked his pinky with hers. She wouldn't remember, but he had pinky promised to see her again and had accidently fulfilled his end of the deal. Time to forge a new promise, one that wasn't as bonding. With this promise she would hopefully be able to live a happy life and never have to see him again. Tom let his hand slipped away and turned to leave, without another word. He went running for the door and back down the hallway. He couldn't be sure if his powers had done anything at all, considering all they were good for was torturing orphans and talking to snakes. However, little did he know, that back in her room the girl had actually removed her bandages and was now staring at the doorway with those bright hazel eyes. She was hoping to catch a glimpse at her savior. While Tom rejoined the orphanage, Dr. Harry Fields marveled at the girl's miraculous recovery. Tom would not think more about the girl. He shoved her to the back of his mind in efforts to forget having might've done something good and feeling something other than hate for another person. And he successfully did so. When they met again, he did not remember either meeting with the girl.

"Tom! Hey, wake up!"

Suddenly, he was under the tree at the lake at Hogwarts, no longer seven. Those hazel eyes he had unknowingly saved were staring down at him. Frankie wasn't seven either and she was completely fine and normal now. Well, normal enough for a witch. "Not like you to dose off. Looks like you were having one weird dream."

"It wasn't really a dream. More like a lost memory." Tom replied, vaguely. He got up from the ground, signifying they should both be heading back to the castle and of course she followed along with a joyful spring in her step.

"What was it about?" Frankie asked, curiously, probably not wanting to just settle for such a vague answer.

"It doesn't really matter anymore. I suppose if you can't remember it was never really that important."

He grabbed her hand, an action that he wasn't man enough to do in the hospital, but he felt was such a simple thing now. Just holding her hand. However, he knew when he got back to the castle he'd be forced to let her go again, keep his distance and pretend to hate her. At least for this moment, he was allowed to soak in that smile, look into her eyes, and be secretly grateful that something good had actually come from his magic.


	2. Chapter 2

Bonus Story 2

Speeding Down the Wrong Tracks (Year 2, part 1)

King's Cross was nothing but pure panic and utter chaos the morning of September 1st, 1939. Hundreds and thousands of children were having to be evacuated and terrified parents were practically clawing their way through the crowd to try and get their child out. There was apparently threats of bombing and gas raids, the start of war. It was obviously something a normal person would be frightened of, a horrible catastrophe and thousands of deaths were on their way. How could one not be feared by that? However, right there in King's Cross Station, was the one person in all of London who was not afraid. A pale boy with neat dark hair was wheeling his cart through the station, closely followed by a brown eyed girl with long hazel hair. They were the two outliers in the crowd. Tom Riddle did not conform to such unnecessary fear and panic, while Frankie Dickson was slightly scared, but knew that as long as she stuck with Tom everything would be alright. As a young wizard and witch on the first of September, they were trying to get out of this city alright. They needed to get off to their second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tom didn't care if the muggles were having problems, this wasn't his world anymore, so they weren't his problems anymore. He didn't care if the city went down in flames. In fact, he would actually like it if the orphanage that they lived in was bombed. His only concern at the moment that might cause him to slightly panic, or worry, at all was losing Frankie in all of this mayhem.

"Keep up. Stay with me."

He would've held her hand, considering it was a dire enough situation for such a gesture to go unnoticed and be acceptable. However, despite the urge, with carts in hand Tom was forced to just keep going, looking every-so-often behind him. They arrived at the pillar between platforms 9 and 10, incredibly later than usual. They only had a few minutes left before the train was scheduled to leave. They would make it as long as they wasted absolutely no time. Tom stood at the starting point, with miraculously enough room to run at the pillar. Normally, Tom was not the one to face the barrier first. However, there wasn't enough space for Frankie to go ahead of him and now was not the time to let such a trivial detail become a priority. Tom took a deep breath and charged for the barrier, slightly looking back as he went to make sure she would be right behind him.

Unfortunately, she would not be.

The shoving crowd of pandemonium and discord had knocked her on to the ground, unconscious.

Before Tom could fully process what he saw, he was enveloped into darkness and spit back out on platform 9 ¾. He touched the barrier. It was rock solid. Then, he was suddenly put in more of a panic then all the muggles in the station combined, and began running himself into the wall over and over. At this rate, Tom was on track to dislocating his shoulder, not on track for school. However, he just had to go back for her. He was certain that he had seen Frankie passed out on the ground. She would not only get trampled, she would miss the train and be trapped in a city that was about to be bombed.

"Tom? Are you alright? What're you still doing on the platform? Hurry up!"

Tom looked over to find Dylan Aguilar shouting at him from the window, even though they were not even remotely friends. She was hanging out of the frame and looking at him like he was mad. He quickly rushed up to the window and she slightly retreated back inside, yet remained in eager attention to hear what his unusual distress was all about.

"I lost her. I actually lost her," Tom remarked, sounding calm, but on the inside he was shouting the same statement over and over, more at himself then at Dylan. It was just the one thing he was trying to not have happened and it actually happened. Guilt was flooding over him, how could he have allowed this to happen to her? Dylan looked confused and he realized he had to further explain the situation if he wanted any help from her. "Frankie and I got separated in the station, with all those panicked people, and now the barrier is closed. She's trapped."

"Relax, Tom. Just get on the train and we can go alert Dumbledore when we get to school," Dylan replied, actually calm. She was right, freaking out about it now wasn't going to bring her back. All he could really do is get on the train and get better help. Strangely, he listened to her commands. Tom quickly got his trunk, hopped on, and closed the train door behind him just as the whistle blew. Dylan came running down the corridor seconds later to meet him, to make sure he had made it on safely, "She'll be alright."

"I hope so…"

Meanwhile, Frankie woke up, not in the station, but on another train. For a second, she had thought she had magically been transported onto the Hogwarts Express, but in closer examination of her surroundings she was on a clearly different train. It was not as nice a compartment as the school's train and there were no overjoyed kids in wizarding robes running down the corridor, looking for their friends and trying to catch various wizarding toys, candy, and pets that were running amuck. On this train, she could hear a lot of crying in the distance. Frankie rubbed her head and tried to remember what had happened and how she had gotten here, but was coming up with nothing. She had been right behind Tom and then…

"Are you alright, miss?"

She didn't notice but there was a boy staring at her in the chair across from hers.

"Where am I exactly?" she asked, rubbing her aching head.

"You're on a train," the boy answered. Frankie sighed, sounding a little exasperated. She had been able to figure that much out for herself. However, it wasn't entirely his fault, she probably should've asked him 'why' she was on this train. "I found you passed out on the platform. You didn't have a label, so I told them you were my sister and they placed you in here."

"Label? What're you talking about?"

"What have you been living under a rock? Your label!" he exclaimed, tugging at his own in a slightly crude manor. Frankie grabbed the piece of paper pinned to his jacket to read the words that were on it. _Arthur Giry, 12 years old, born in London on July 25th, 1927_, "I figured yours fell off when you fell, but do you honestly not know what I'm talking about?"

"I had a bracelet," Frankie suddenly remembered, feeling around for it in her pocket. This trip to King's Cross the whole orphanage followed them because they had to be evacuated. Mrs. Cole gave them all these metal bracelets, mostly out of legal obligation for Tom and Frankie. She didn't care if they actually evacuated or not. "Tom thought it was stupid and told me to take it off."

Frankie removed it from her pocket and handed it to the boy, apparently named Arthur, to read for himself._ Frankie Dickson, 12 years old, February 3__rd__, 1927, (Wool's Orphanage, non-entity)_

"You're an orphan. Well, that's not very good. You aren't likely to get a good foster parent if they find out," Arthur remarked, insensitively. "The guard is about to come back and make you a new label. We'll just keep up with the lie that you're my sister."

"No, I have to get off and get to school." Frankie protested, making a sudden break for the compartment door. She had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to get off a moving train speeding through the country, but she had to find some way. She wasn't supposed to be sitting here with Arthur Giry. She was supposed to be sitting with Tom, talking about the new school year, trying new wizard candy from the Candy Lady. Frankie yanked and jiggled the door handle. Locked, of course.

"The city is about to be bombed and you're worried about school. Okay…"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, just help me get out of here. I need to get out."

"We're on a moving train. There is no getting out." he reasoned, logically. Frankie was still trying with the door handle, feeling the anxiety and hysteria of a person who was trapped. The door suddenly slid open and she came face-to-face a guard of the train.

"Excuse me, is everything alright now?"

"Yes, my sister is just a bit hysteric from all the excitement." Arthur smiled, charmingly, while he casually pulled Frankie out of the man's personal bubble and back down into her seat.

"Full name, age, city and date of birth." the guard ordered, a pen and new label in his hand.

"Annabelle Giry, 12 years old, born in London on July 25th, 1927." Arthur replied, immediately. Frankie was about to protest, naturally. Why lie about who she was? However, he squeezed her wrist to keep her silent.

"Here you go. Be more careful next time." the guard sighed, handing the safety pin with the label tied to it to Arthur, the one he obviously thought was more stable and responsible. He exited back into the corridor and Arthur exhaled in relief. He was clearly not an expert at lying.

"Twins? Really? We look nothing alike, you know?" Frankie added, harshly, as he was busy pinning it to her collar of her coat.

"Well, I have a real twin sister and I just figured that you might as well take her place, considering she wasn't able to make it," he stated, not meeting her eyes. When Arthur was seemingly satisfied with the placement of the label, he sat back down his own seat, hoping Frankie would not press on the subject. However, he felt the curiosity of her gaze. "She's too sick to survive the journey. She's going to die soon, whether bombs actually fall on London or not."

"I'm sorry," Frankie felt a bit of empathy for the boy, however, her emotions were still mostly clouded by anger of practically being abducted. She quickly fell back into the delusional mindset she would be able to get off the train. Frankie was prepared to walk to Hogwarts if she had too. "Where are my things?"

"They're onboard, don't worry. Everything's going to be alright." Arthur assured her.

"Ugh, is not alright!" she shouted back at him, rising out of her seat again. Naturally, he didn't understand why it was so vital she get back there and he wouldn't believe her if she had told him. "I have to be on the Hogwarts Express right now. I have to get back to Hogwarts."

"Whoa, slow down. What are you going on about hog warts for?" he questioned, looking confused. At this point, it wouldn't be too crazy if she had actually started talking about the warts on pigs. He clearly already thought she was insane already.

"It's the name of a boarding school in Scotland. It's my school, it's my home, and I need to get back to it. I can't be going to—wherever this train his headed right now."

"Look, you can't go back. I'm sorry to say it, but you're stuck in the same situation as all of us now."

Frankie was begrudgingly quiet for the rest of the trip. All the kids exited the train onto the platform, less panicked and rushed, yet still pretty confused and teary-eyed. Once Frankie got her trunk back and she immediately searched for a sign to see where they were. Maybe she wasn't far from Hogwarts and could make a break for it and walk there. However, upon further examination of the quant country environment, she realized were she was. Cotswold. It was the town where the orphanage took their annual trip to every summer. Scotland and Hogwarts were about 400 miles away.

Having no choice but to let that realization sink into her mind, Frankie followed the crowd of children being herded towards another unknown destination. She didn't want to cry like the rest of these children, so she kept her feelings contained through a vacant glossy gaze. Her future was uncertain, she had no idea what was going to happen to her and that fact terrified her. Would she really be forced to live out a muggle life and never see her friends again? The thought of never being able to see Tom again was an unbearable thought. However, part of her knew the Hogwarts Express had also arrived at it's destination and he was probably raising hell about her situation to Dumbledore, Dippet, every teacher he could possibly find before the feast. They would find her. She just needed to wait.

They were guided into a field where nothing but a flimsy wooden platform stood, with an audience of people, waiting for the apparent show. The guards who had guided them lined them up in a certain order that only they knew. Naturally, as his 'sister', Frankie soon ended up back next to Arthur Giry. She turned away from in an angry huff and tried to crane her neck out so she could she what was happening. They were too far towards the back. The line slowly started moving forward, meanwhile, the guards started examining the children and writing things down. They arrived at Frankie and began to handle her roughly. Checking her scalp, pulling on her hair, tugging her lips apart, holding her eyelids open. It was all very aggravating, annoying, and uncomfortable.

"Oi, would you stop manhandling my sister? She's fine."

Arthur had spoken up for Frankie, noticing that they were making her uncomfortable. Frankie gave him a small smile and look of gratitude as the guard stopped with her and started doing the same sort of things to him. Arthur looked over at her, and would've probably been smiling, if the guard wasn't tugging down his bottom lip to examine his teeth. After a while and several kids added to the audience, they were both practically shoved onto the stage. The crowd murmured in discussion of their various features, like they were objects to be judged. The guard who had examined them handed a notecard to another man standing on the stage,

"Lot 666. A boy and girl pair from the middle-class of London. Fairly clean, no health problems. You will be paid 42 and a half pence for each child." he announced to the audience. Before Frankie processed what the man was saying, a hand from the crowd was raised into the air.

"Very good, sir. Thank you for your generosity."

"Did they really just auction us off? This is so degrading!" Frankie whispered to Arthur, as they were guided of stage and back to their trunks.

"When are you going to get off that high horse of yours? For an orphan, you really are picky." Arthur replied, finally becoming unamused by her resilience. He was someone who had already accepted his fate, whatever it may be, before he left King's Cross Station. While Frankie probably gave off the impression that she was slightly prissy and high maintenance, despite her position in the world. They went to join the man who had decided to take them in. He was an elder man, with neatly combed silver white hair. He looked stern, the frown lines on his face were very apparent. However, he had half-moon spectacles, like Dumbledore's, hanging on a chain around his neck, which made Frankie smile. Perhaps they would be similar.

"I am Dr. George Winchester. You will both address me as 'sir'. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." they both answered, obediently. He gave no further introduction and turned away expecting them to trail behind him. They followed him away towards his house, considering that they were finished with business and did not want to see the rest of that misery fest of an auction. Eventually, he led them to the doorstep of a rather large manor, that didn't really fit the countryside image. It was sort of secluded from the rest of town, right along the edge of the forest. Frankie got the notion he wasn't a very sociable man and liked being on his own.

Inside the house was even more of a surprise. The faintest of blue walls, pristine hardwood floors, intricately designed rugs, regality of wealth. Every little object was perfectly in place. Why the man willingly let children in his home, no one would ever know. But they had gotten lucky, compared to all the other children, it was a magnificent place to escape war in, or in Frankie's jumbled mind a magnificent prison to sit and rot in. The house was positively exquisite, there was no denying that, but it was not her home. He opened the door to a room splashed with the sunlight from the setting summer sun and let the two wander over to their respective beds that had been placed inside.

"This will be your room," Dr. Winchester confirmed. "Breakfast is generally at eight o' clock in the morning, supper is six at night, and lunch is served at twelve, unless there is school, which you will start at next Monday—"

"School?" Frankie questioned, like she had never heard of such a thing.

"You didn't expect for me to let your education go down the toilet."

"Of course not, sir." she answered, immediately, her voice hushing up a little at the sternness in his voice. Frankie didn't dare mention that she was already attending a school, like she had been doing so constantly for the past few hours. She knew it wouldn't matter at this point. It's not like if she told him he would be able to send her back there. Dr. Winchester started to leave again. He said to prepare supper, however, for some reason Frankie couldn't really picture him cooking at all. He closed the door and she was soon stuck alone with her 'brother' again.

"This is living, eh, Pidge." Arthur grinned, already relaxing on what was now his bed.

"Pidge?"

"Short for Pidgeon, cause you're the slum of the city yet still manage to prance around acting like you're all that."

"I do not! I'm just upset. Any normal person would be in this type of situation." Frankie snapped back at him, naturally offended. "You're the one with the actual family. Why aren't you freaking out? Aren't you the least bit worried about them?"

"I said my goodbyes, nothing more to do." he replied to her comeback, simply. She looked at him appalled. How could he be acting so nonchalantly about something like this? His family was in danger, he was only one who had been managed to escape the dark fate that loomed over London. Did he really not care about them at all? Was he honestly so heartless? Realizing he would once again have to explain himself to get through to her, he sighed, "Look, I already told you about my sister's condition. My father is going to fight in the war and, if don't get drafted and die, all that's probably going to be waiting for me is my mother, if she doesn't die in a bombing."

"You've already lost everyone."

"Exactly. So, there's no point whining about it now. I'm just going to keep moving forward."

They didn't talk anymore for the rest of the night. Frankie was too busy thinking about 'moving forward' herself. The likelihood of her escaping this life seemed very slim, so should she just embrace it? Give up on trying to get back home? She was quiet the whole extra week of summer they'd gotten, she hardly spoke unless she was spoken to, didn't make any more fuss about her school and her friends. However, they still were constantly on her mind. They were probably already being given new material, learning new things, meanwhile she was just sitting there doing nothing. She'd taken up sitting in the window seat of her and Arthur's room, as if she was wishing for an owl to fly in with a letter from Tom, or Dumbledore, saying they would be coming there to rescue her very soon. However, Frankie knew that it was really just a silly, stupid daydream. Sometimes, in the dullest of boredoms, she even felt the need to go to her and Tom's greenhouse in the woods. It would feel nice to check on the plants and be truly alone for a little while. However, she knew that she wouldn't be able to make it over the fallen stump alone. Without Tom beside her, Frankie would fall into the ravine and become those bones he searched for on shallow sunny days.

At least in that scenario, he'd get to see her again…

Eventually, it was Monday morning and Frankie was expected to get up early and actually go to the muggle school. Having not been properly educated, prior her enrollment at Hogwarts, she honestly didn't know what to expect. She got on her new uniform, a short sleeve blouse and plaid jumper-skirt, tied her scarlet red ribbon around her head and grabbed her leather school bag to go, but got caught by the reflection of herself in the mirror as she was about to leave. Frankie stared at her image for at least another few minutes. She didn't think she looked like herself. She missed the gold and maroon tie, the comfy warm sweater and little-bit-too-short skirt of her old uniform. They were comfy and familiar. However, she rallied on, pushed back her eagerness to dive into her trunk and quickly change back into her old uniform, and went downstairs to leave with her new family to school.

"I've never been to a muggle school before…"Frankie was saying, as she and Arthur closed the front door to set off on their journey. The doctor had drawn them a map, thinking they were fully capable of making it on their own. He wasn't a very fatherly guardian. Frankie realized she had just made a wizard reference, however, at this point she wasn't caring if anyone understood her or not.

"A mug—what?"

"Never mind..."

It certainly wasn't Hogwarts. A miserably plain looking building, like any other school in the world, over flooded from the war with a mixture of locals and the evacuated. It wasn't hard to tell who was who in the crowd. The new children still looked frightened, miserable and teary-eyed, while the local children were happily chatting with their friends in secluded circles, already planning on not accepting them.

"Now, don't go causing trouble, Pidge." Arthur added, as they arrived at the front. They had to make two separate classes for their year, what with the overflow of kids. Thankfully for Frankie, she and Arthur were not in the same one, so she would only see him during outdoor activities and lunch, "We both know you aren't actually the quiet type."

"Oh my dear, brother. You flatter me too much." Frankie laughed, giving him a toxically sweet smile that was secretly poised for murder, "Don't talk to me and there won't be any trouble."

Frankie huffed away to go find her new classroom, class 2-C. It wasn't hard, considering she usually had to navigate a whole castle to get to her classes on time. She froze a little outside the door that stopped her from getting where she was going. The door was propped open and she could hear laughter coming from inside, yet she didn't feel welcomed at all. The second they find out she is different, they're going to shun her. Despite her major pause and massive internal panic, Frankie entered the room practically unnoticed. She quickly shuffled her way to a desk in the very back, by the window. Sighing in relief, upon successful infiltration, she started to gaze out the window and wonder what class Tom was waiting for to begin. Was he in the hazy dungeons waiting for Slughorn to find the day's lesson plan, or was he in the Transfiguration classroom waiting for Dumbledore to appear out of thin air?

A few minutes later a bell rung and class begun. Unlike Hogwarts, they only had one teacher for every subject, Mrs. Jones. Not 'Professor' Jones, which Frankie could strangely tolerate. She did not give off the impression that she was used to teaching and had been doing it for several years, no right for the title 'professor'. The kids were probably going to break her as well, eventually. She looked like one of those teachers that was too nice for their own good and could easily be taken advantage of once the students got more comfortable around this place.

"Now, why don't we all go around and introduce ourselves. Say your name, where you're from, and one special thing about you…"

The room of twelve year old's began to rise in order of row and state who they were and what was so special about them. It easily became a one-up of talents, a secret contest to see who was the best out of all of them. Singing, dancing, cooking, it was a parade of ordinary talents and skills, until it was Frankie's turn to answer,

Frankie was the last to answer. She stood up from her chair, feeling the eyes of all that had gone before. Seeing her more clearly now, it was plain to see she was an anomaly amongst them. From the brand new clothes to the long hazel curls, she could obviously not be a normal evacuee or a local. Frankie heard the judgment whispers and wanted to run and hide behind Mrs. Jones, like she had with Mrs. Cole her first day at the orphanage. However, she mustered her Gryffindor bravery, and went on to introduce herself in the best way she could,

"I'm Frankie Dickson. I'm from the wizarding world and I have magic powers."

Dead silence.

Frankie had thought she might as well get it out in the open, to hell with secrecy. She wouldn't actually get in trouble unless she used her powers in front of anyone. What class 2-C didn't know was the truth and had actually been a shocking confession, they saw as some hysterical joke. All of them laughed at her, naturally. Instead of delaying the inevitable label of 'freak' Frankie had spared them all some time and just put the label on herself. She simply sat down, while Mrs. Jones tried to silence the class, and continued to gaze out the window like she hadn't stood up.

"Miss Giry, must you have lied about everything? You could have least told the class your real name."

"I did say my real name," Frankie protested, obviously frustrated. Nothing she said had been a lie and, if anything, her name should've been the one thing that they believed, "I'm not Annabelle Giry. She's dead!"

"Hallway, young lady! Twenty minutes."

Twenty pointless minutes later, Frankie was allowed back into the room, which was still full of whispers and snickers, but she paid them no mind. Honestly, she didn't care what they thought about her, she was just waiting for all of this to be over. They were starting with English this morning, a subject generally taught in normal schools. Mrs. Jones went over certain words and kids were called to board to try and spell some. She called on Frankie several times, noticing her focus was not on her and she was not paying attention. However, that didn't slip her up like she hoped it would. To Frankie they were all painfully easy, considering she was well adapted to more complex reading and had a far bigger vocabulary of words then everyone else. Their homework was to write a short essay of what you did this summer, or something worthless like that.

When lunchtime came around, Frankie immediately trudged off alone to the edge of the school grounds, not wanting to hear the cruel insults anymore. However, now that they were more unsupervised by adults, they were going to start to take more action. She was followed by a group of boys. Frankie ducked behind a tree to check them all out. Stupidly grinning pranksters, who felt it was their sole purpose in life to make a human being's life miserable just because they're different, practically a copy of Billy Stubbs's orphanage gang. Eric Whalley was even there—

_Eric!_

It wasn't someone who could save her, or even someone who liked her whatsoever, but it was someone she knew. And that was enough for the moment. He had probably heard rumors that were already being circulated about her and joined a gang that was planning on tormenting her, to figure out if it was actually who he thought it was. He was stupid, but not stupid enough to not suspect her identity. There weren't many girls like Frankie. When they arrived to the girl peeking out at them from behind the tree, they spread out to cover more ground, in case she decided to try and run away. Frankie stared specifically at Eric, trying to have a conversation with him based on looks alone. However, he averted his gaze as his suspicions were confirmed. Now, that he was sure of her identity, he couldn't know her anymore. He'd be labeled too and he surely wasn't going to risk that for a girl he couldn't stand.

"Leave me alone." she hissed at them, reverting her desperate gaze at Whalley to a harsh one at their nameless leader, knowing he was the only one who could stop this. Taking him down would mean they would all go away, having to deal with Billy had taught her that.

"Why don't you use your magic powers to make us move, witch?" he retorted back.

"Believe me, I would if I could," she sneered, hatefully. Frankie wanted nothing more than to curse his own fist to punch him the face. However, she couldn't risk being expelled from Hogwarts for using magic in the presence of a muggle. Making a magical fuss probably would get her found by the ministry. However, it would lose any sort of chance she had to go back to Hogwarts. She might even get sent to Azkaban, "but I can't."

"Why not? If you were really a witch you'd do something with your magic," the boy reasoned. The others nodded in agreement and egged her on to do some kind of magic trick, except Eric, who was still trying not to look at her, "You're just a delusional freak aren't you? A rotten liar—"

A fist came flying to punch the leader of the boys in the face, just like Frankie had wished for. Only it wasn't his own fist, or even Whalley's fist. Her own fist had slammed itself full-force into the boy's jaw. He was knocked to the ground with a groan, while she stared at her own arm. It didn't hurt, but it buzzed with adrenaline.

"I don't need magic to handle you clowns." Frankie added, putting up the tough front she used for her enemies, knowing it was what was going to make them leave her be for at least five minutes. They all ran, headed to tell the nearest teacher surely, except Eric Whalley. In that moment before she was in a world of trouble, he was either too frightened to move, or he still had questions he wanted answered from her. Frankie walked closer to him, however, he was determined to keep most of his distance.

"Why—why didn't you just use your powers?" he stammered, shakily.

"Because I can't." she answered, simply. She didn't want to have to try and explain the rules of using magic away from school, knowing someone like him wouldn't be able to comprehend it.

"What are you even doing here? Don't you and Satan go off to hell this time of year?" Eric questioned. His cruel comments should've made her want to punch him in the face too, but she merely looked at him with the same pitiful desperation. Frankie grabbed his sleeve, knowing any other form of contact would've made him panic. She needed him to not hate her, just for a moment. If she was going to have to spend the rest of her life out here, she would need someone to at least slightly understand what she was going through and who she was being separated from. Even if it was only for a moment.

"I just want to go back home, Eric."

"Don't we all?" he sighed, surprisingly uncharacteristic and not cruel. Eric put a supportive hand on her shoulder, slightly flinching a little as he did, considering she was practically toxic to him. Their touching moment was naturally only for a moment. Every teacher at the school, plus the group of boys, were running towards them, "Get away from me, you monster!"

The parade of teachers came to constrain her in that moment, like she was some vicious creature that had gotten loose. The boys surrounded Eric like he had just gone through some kind of big epic showdown and won, all with looks of admiration. He had survived that vicious girl, when their leader could not, which meant there was a new order. It would seem Eric was finally a leader at long last. He gave Frankie one last glance, as if saying he was actually sorry for doing this to her, and departed with the other boys to hurry off to class. She was contained in the headmaster's office, drowning out several lectures from authority figures she could care less about, until Dr. Winchester came to get her. They immediately pulled him off to the side and into a different room, to explain the situation in their own way, so she could not properly defend herself. As he came out, he said nothing and made no indication of her presence, yet expected her to follow after him. The teachers explained that she was suspended, Frankie would not be allowed to return to school for another week. Which, quite honestly, she found to be a relief and a gift. She had a better first day at the orphanage.

Dr. Winchester escorted her back to the house with a tense silent air. He was going to explode at her any minute surely. However, unexpectedly, when they arrived he led her not to her room, but to one of the many locked doors of the house. There were particular rooms she and Arthur weren't allowed to go into and this was one of them. Slightly expecting horrors from the mystery room, when it was opened Frankie was thoroughly surprised. It was a library.

"You like reading, don't you?" Dr. Winchester inquired, before she could question what they were doing here. She nodded in agreement, "Despite all the negative reviews I got about you today, I hear you did great in English class."

"Aren't you angry with me?" Frankie questioned. She didn't know much about how parents were supposed to discipline children, but she knew enough to know that her actions at school warranted some kind of punishment.

"Why should I be? It was a stupid thing to do, obviously, but I know you must've had a smart reason behind it. You're a clever girl." he replied. She smiled, one of her usual smiles, probably for the first time in over a week. Tom used to occasionally call her clever girl too. It always made her feel better.

"Is there a post here?"

"Of course."

"Am I allowed to write my family?"

"I suppose I see no harm and that," Dr. Winchester stated. He pulled out the chair to a nearby desk, indicating for her to sit there and write her letter, "Paper, envelopes, and stamps are all here in this desk."

"Thank you very much, sir." Frankie remarked, taking up the seat he had pulled out for her.

"It might not make it through you know."

"I know…"

He left her alone with a strange feeling. The doctor had sounded like he had known the letter wouldn't make it, not because of the war, because of the magic. However, that was impossible. Frankie ignored the feeling, grabbed a quill and pot of ink from the desk drawer and started to write,

"_Dear Tom,_

_I have so many things I want to say to you, yet I cannot find the words to express everything I need to in such a short amount of space. Although, the likelihood you will receive this letter is very slim, I still felt the need to write. I don't know exactly why. You shouldn't be blaming yourself for what happened to me, it wasn't your fault. I was being clumsy. I am, for the most part, alright. I'm in Cotswold, the country town where the orphanage takes their summer vacations. I'm currently living with a doctor as an evacuee of the war and being cared for much better than we are at the orphanage. He's a very kind man, so there's no need to worry about me. However, I'm still very eager to return to school. I'm not built for muggle life anymore, especially without you to bear it with. I'm sure you feel the same. These people really aren't like we are. I feel very trapped with them all, most of the ones here are very ignorant and cruel. I just want to leave. I miss you. _

_Anyway, you know where I am now, or not considering there's no way muggle post could get to a wizard school. You're probably not reading this and I'm just talking to myself. In the slightest case of miracle, please alert Dumbledore of my location._

_I'll be waiting for you to come bring me home._

_-Frankie"_

Normally, Frankie would've handed it over to an owl at this point, completely trusting that the letter would arrive at it's destination. However, she tossed it into the mailbox a few blocks away with a sense of uncertainty and doubt. There was the slightest, miniscule chance it would make it to Tom. There could possibly be a wizard working in the post office who would be able to pass it on to Dippet or Dumbledore, but that would've been a little too good to be true, honestly. She knew it wasn't going to make it. When Frankie turned to go back to the house, not-so-surprisingly-by-this-point, she once again came face-to-face with her brother.

"Who is Tom? Is he your real brother or something?" Arthur asked, probably having read the envelope she had been carrying so graciously and carefully from over her shoulder.

"Have you been following me?" she questioned, defensively.

"For the better part of ten minutes, I have. I just got home from school," he replied, normally, like he wasn't just admitting to slightly stalking her. She grunted in frustration. All Frankie wanted was a true minute alone. "I heard the funniest thing today, that wasn't very funny at all."

"Spit it out, Arthur," Frankie snapped, knowing that was just a bad transition into a more serious conversation that he wanted to have with her, "Just say what you want to say—"

"What I want to say?" Arthur added, sounding shocked and a little affronted, "You're the one who told everyone you had magic powers and then punched some kid in the face. Are you sure there isn't something you want to be telling me?"

"I'm not sorry."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself? You aren't even going to try and deny it?"

"I don't lie." Frankie replied, grudgingly.

"You're crazy, Pidge." he exclaimed, sounding a little insane himself. "You honestly expect me to believe you're from some kind of other dimension and have magic powers."

"Believe what you want. I could give a damn about what you or anyone else thinks about me!" she shouted, crossly. Frankie stormed back to the house at top speed, leaving Arthur in the dust. She re-entered the library, slammed the door shut, and locked it behind her, for good measure. Then, she started to pull titles she didn't even bother to look at properly. She needed to get lost in a world that was not this one and that was only something a book could offer her. Whether it was just as trapped a world as the underground cellar of a French opera house, or as far and as free as the second star to the right, she would go anywhere she could to forget her own problems.

Eventually, the door had to be opened by someone. Although, she would most certainly try her best, Frankie could not remain locked in there forever. George Winchester gave her a few good hours, hoping she would just come out on her own, before he had decided to unlock the door. When he had come to get her out, yell at her for being childish and unreasonable, he was stopped. Upon seeing her seeing her sprawled out on the floor surrounded by almost the entirety of his once perfectly organized library of books, all the anger in his expression slowly started to fade.

"My Elizabeth loved to read too. She used to spend her days lying on the floor of this very room, surrounded by books just like this."

"Who?"

"No one of importance to you, my dear." he answered, simply. However, Frankie was not just going to take that as an acceptable answer. By not telling her straight out, he had turned this woman into an enigma, and Frankie was eager he told her what made this Elizabeth such a secret, "She was my light, my angel, and my salvation from the dark brooding boy that I once was."

"Like in the _Phantom of the Opera_?" Frankie added, referring to the book she had just set down. Yet not seeming not to acknowledge that she was in a similar situation, as well, and was the light of an angry boy who was in love with her and currently brooding over her disappearance at this very moment.

"Isn't that a bit of heavy reading for a twelve year old?" Dr. Winchester questioned, suspiciously. She simply shrugged off his question meant to distract her from her own and he sighed, "I suppose our affair could be seen as somewhat similar."

"She didn't love you back then?"

"It pains for me to say, even long after her passing, there was someone else who won her heart." he sighed, still sounding very heartbroken although it probably happened over several years ago.

_Now, that you're here it doesn't matter, though…_

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing. It's time for you to head off to bed. Run along now."

Frankie obliged, however, made sure she picked up the copy of the _Phantom of the Opera _as she left. She was keen on going to bed _after_ she finished it. Frankie changed in the bathroom and brushed her teeth, taking her sweet time. After her last encounter with Arthur, she really didn't want to face him. Hopefully, he'd be asleep and she could just read in peace and quiet, without any more confrontations.

Unfortunately, Arthur was sitting there in her window seat in the dim, warm glow of the lantern light. He didn't look angry anymore though, which made Frankie relax a little.

"I know you aren't sorry, but I am. I was out of line."

"It's alright. I probably wouldn't believe myself either, if I were you," she answered, truthfully. It was a lot to ask of someone, to believe in magic when Frankie wasn't allowed to show it to them. Although, she certainly would not have treated someone like she had been treated for the past few hours just because they couldn't prove anything, "I'm not crazy, though."

"Let's just not talk about it anymore." Arthur added, knowing that the more they talked about it, the more they would argue. If they were going to be stuck together for a while, they would need to at least somewhat get along, "You never did tell me who Tom was."

"He's my best friend."

"Orphans can have best friends?"

"It's not like we're a different species, ya' know?" Frankie remarked, slightly affronted from his insensitivity. "He's the closest thing I have to a family."

"You'll see him again someday. I know it." he smiled, although he really did not have the authority to say such a thing or know the impossible circumstances the two were facing. However, it still made Frankie feel supported and re-assured that maybe she would see Tom again someday.

"I hope so…"

Eventually, September passed and time moved through October at just a slow a pace. When she was let back into school, her social status went from laughing stock to bad ass. Everyone was utterly terrified of her, yet she could still hear the occasional whisper about her from behind her back. While her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Jones, opinion of her changed into a softer one. She soon saw that Frankie was not really the same girl she had met on the first day of school and was a sweet girl just horrified by unfortunate circumstances. Frankie's first impression of her teacher's sweet demeanor turned out to be right too, despite how she acted on the first day, she wasn't cruel and strict. She was kind, generous and someone to talk to in this hellhole.

Fridays soon became Frankie's favorite day of the week and not only because it was the start of the weekend. On Fridays, class 2-C got into the habit of reading, _The Adventures Tom Riddle_. A series of completely fictional stories about a completely fictional boy attending wizarding school, which Frankie may or may not write up every week and give to Mrs. Jones to read. Although, they repelled the idea of someone actually having magic in this world, everyone loved Tom and her story counterpart's adventures with magic. Frankie liked to see them all finally not so filled with hate over something she did, even though they didn't know she was the one writing them.

Soon it was the one day a year Frankie was allowed to express her freakiness in public eye without judgement. Halloween. Dr. Winchester let her dress up as a muggle interpretation of a witch and have her wand out at school, as long as she promised not to skewer people eyes out of people who insulted her. Long black dress that made her look like she was going to a funeral, pointy brimmed hat, broomstick from the cupboard. It was perfect. However, thought it unsafe for her to go wander the streets at night. When she returned back to the house, she would pass out candy for the other kids who came by.

_Knock! Knock!_

There was a knock on the door just as Frankie came downstairs from putting away her school things and changing into her plaid jumper-skirt for the moment. Children already? It was barely 4 o' clock. Frankie opened the door with one hand, juggling the big bowl of candy in the other. However, when the door flew open, both of her hands had to cover her mouth as she gasped in shock. It was not a group of trick-or-treaters. Frankie came face-to-face with what just had to be someone in a costume. The long greying auburn haired man was staring at her with piercing blue eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles. Professor Albus Dumbledore was standing at the front door and it wasn't someone in a costume, miraculously. He was real.

"Dumbledore!" Frankie exclaimed, sounding incredibly relieved. He found her. He actually found her. She could go back to her home with all her friends and finally be a witch again. "Thank goodness you're here. I was so scared that no one would ever find me."

"I'm glad to see you are well," Dumbledore smiled back. Frankie hugged him and let the warm familiar scent of peppermint and brandy envelop her. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I brought someone with me. He's been rather worried about your whereabouts for the past couple months, so I let him come along…"

Tom Riddle was standing in the gateway of the metal gate that surrounded the house, looking up at the autumn foliage intentionally. Although, he had agreed to come along and wanted to see her safe and sound more than anything, he refused to look over at her standing a few feet away completely unharmed.

"Tom!" Frankie shouted, upon seeing him standing there. She was overcome with joy and relief. He finally decided to look at her and attempted a somewhat kind expression. He was probably still pissed, however, Frankie wasn't about to let that simple fact bother her. She ran and pulled him into her arms. Even if he wouldn't hug her back she would continue to hold onto him for as long as he let her, which she hoped would be a very, very long time. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Idiot!" Tom yelled, thumping her on the forehead, once he was able to break one of his arms loose. She could apologize as much as she wanted, but that wouldn't make up for the years of his life he had lost worrying about what happened to her. However, for a moment, he allowed himself to be un-angered and uncharacteristically hug her back. "I know it wasn't actually your fault, but don't you dare ever scare me like that again..."

"It would seem Annabelle has finally been reunited with her true family,"

Dr. Winchester had appeared from the doorway of the manor, a bit of an unwelcomed presence in the happy reunion. Tom and Frankie broke apart as he slowly approached them with an abnormally happy smile that could not be real. And it wasn't. "I'll be heartbroken to see her go, but by all means you can take her if you're under circumstances that you can properly care for her in."

"Pack you're things. We will be departing soon." Dumbledore answered, sternly, seemingly to intentionally ignoring Dr. Winchester's statement. Frankie and Tom scooted pass them to go upstairs and pack, leaving two old men in a heated glare. When they arrived to the room, Arthur was busy reading a book they had been assigned to read for class. He looked up to address Frankie, but then he realized she was not alone.

"Who's that?" Arthur asked, obviously noticing she was being followed by a boy when she had no friends.

"Tom." Frankie replied, with a satisfied grin.

"He exists!?" Arthur gasped, in clear astonishment of what he probably thought was another lie.

"You thought I was making him up too?" Frankie growled, in frustration. She had honestly not lied once since she'd came here, yet everyone insisted every word that came out of her mouth was an outlandish lie, "Unbe-bloody-lievable!"

"You were right, Frankie. The muggles here are very ignorant. Who is this one?" Tom questioned, curiously, not caring he just insulted the boy to his face.

"Arthur Giry." Frankie answered, not elaborating any further on why he was here or what their relationship had been. She quickly started to fold her things, while Tom glared at Arthur for her, instead of helping like he had planned on when he came up here.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised. You said there was no way to contact him and that he probably was never going to find you."

"How did you find me though?" Frankie asked Tom. None of the letters she wrote over the past month could've actually made it through and she had been very careful not to use her magic. They couldn't have just guessed where she was.

"Don't look at me. About an hour ago, Dumbledore pulled me from lessons saying that he found you and gave me a stack of unopened letters that apparently you wrote to me. We walked down to Hogsmeade and disapparated from there." Tom answered, defensively, crossing his arms. He had probably been badgering Dumbledore the whole way down to Hogsmeade about the very same question, while simultaneously checking every letter to make sure they were real.

"I guess it doesn't matter." Frankie added, as she put the last of her things in her trunk. She didn't really care how she was found by Dumbledore without opening the letters, or how he'd gotten them in the first place, the point was they had found her and she was going home. Tom grabbed her trunk and she followed behind him to leave, "Goodbye, Arthur."

"Take care, Pidge." Arthur smiled, waving as she turned to address him. She left with Tom back downstairs to find the two men standing in the exact same position they had left them in several minutes ago. Upon noticing their arrival, Dumbledore started to walk for the gate, followed by Tom with her trunk. Frankie, however, had been stopped by Dr. Winchester. He set the copy of the _Phantom of the Opera_ in her hands.

"She would've liked for you to take something from the library and this one was your favorite." he explained. Frankie smiled and clutched the book in her arms. He gestured for her to run alone and she quickly ran back to Dumbledore and Tom, "Thanks for coming, Mr. Dumbledore. Many safe travels."

As Dr. Winchester closed the door, the three were about to finally depart. However, they were stopped of making their magical exit by a real group of trick-or-treaters walking up the path. Eric Whalley and his posse of boys were coming towards them dressed as pirates. They froze at the sight of Frankie, however, Eric was the only one to freeze at the sight of Tom, knowing this boy was far more dangerous.

"Hello, Eric. Did you miss me?" Tom laughed, cruelly, seeing the look of complete terror on his face.

"Back to hell, Eric. We'll see you this summer, if the orphanage hasn't been bombed." Frankie smiled, sweetly, despite what she was saying. The boys whispered. Their leader apparently had met this girl before and was not who he said he was either. She had probably ruined Eric's reputation and was bound to become the new freak when she left. Dumbledore led them a little ways away, but not too far, and they disapparated. It was Halloween, so the rules with magic in front of muggles was a bit wobbly. Frankie wished they got to see the looks of terror and astonishment as they realized that she was really a witch. Their feet buckled onto the cobblestone of Hogsmeade village seconds later and Frankie got a view of the castle in the distance. Finally, she was right where she belonged.

"Did you let your real name or the fact you are a real witch slip at all with your temporary guardian?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly, as they began to make their decent up to the castle.

"Not with him specifically. I blurted out on the first day of school and no one believed me, naturally."

"You went to muggle school?" Tom questioned, obviously want to hear more about that venture then whatever Dumbledore was talking about.

"So, you are certain that man didn't hear your name?"

"Yes. He couldn't have." Frankie answered, almost certain. Arthur was always calling her by the strange nickname he had come up for her. As far as Dr. George Winchester knew, she was Annabelle Giry. Twelve years old, from a family of four in the middle class of London, currently not sick and dying.

They had made it up to the castle just in time for the Halloween feast. All the students were sitting at their house table, waiting for the food to appear. She froze nervously and hid along the wall of the Great Hall entrance. She wanted to see her friends more than anything, but she wasn't in uniform and she had mysteriously disappeared for a month without any contact. If she turned up now, they might even think she's a ghost or something. What if they were mad at her? She had thousands of little excuses that stopped her from going in, but none of those mattered when Tom grabbed her and pushed her through the entrance.

"Go on." he commanded, when she had turned around to question him. He made gestures for her to run along to her house table and create yet another Gryffindor spectacle. He had gotten his moment alone with her and that was enough for him. Now, her friends deserved their moment, despite what he thought about them. Maybe now they felt guilty about not writing her all summer. Tom turned towards his own table, trying to look like he hadn't engaged with her at all, while Frankie slowly walk toward the table, unsure and afraid of approaching them. She still didn't know how to properly announce or present herself to them. Thankfully, for her Rodger Day had not been staring at the shiny plates waiting for food to appear, for once, and had been looking around the room in that moment. He spotted her, naturally, and ran up to her immediately with a shocked and relieved expression.

"Squirt!" he shouted, as he lifted her up and spun her around, "You're alive, you're alive. It's a bloody miracle!"

"Let me go, Day. I-can't—breathe!" Frankie protested. However, he had started the commotion. Dylan and the girls just had to turn and see what Rodger Day was talking about now, the entire house had too, considering the ruckus he was making. Then everyone was staring at her. The other houses stared as well as practically all of Gryffindor table had ignored the magnificent amounts of food that appeared and risen to see their missing member in the flesh. Frankie's year was in the middle of the huddle with her still lifted in Rodger Day's arms. All asking questions, she could not answer all at once. Where had she gone? What she did for almost two whole months? How she survived? However, all Frankie wanted to do was eat until one of the buttons on her blouse popped and go sleep in her bed in Gryffindor dorm.

"Come now, everyone. Frankie is very tired from this ordeal. Let her eat, sleep, settle in and she will possibly answer some questions in the near future." Dumbledore said, appearing from the crowd. They all obeyed their head of house and returned to where they had been sitting.

Thanks to Dumbledore, everything was back to normal for a while. Frankie was able to talk with her friends about the classes they were taking and catch up on all the gossip she missed while she was away, while eating all the wizarding candy she could. It was perfect. Slughorn came by to deliver her schedule, and of course see her safe and sound, so she would be ready to go back to classes tomorrow. Once finished she raced up the moving stairs to the common room, she was eager to sleep peacefully in a room without nightmares. After having to wait for everyone to catch up and open the Fat Lady for her, she dashed straight to the middle bed of their common room, not bothering to even ask if it was still hers. She didn't even bother to change into her nightgown, just sank into a peaceful oblivion.

Well, almost peaceful.

_Nunc uiribus esse..._

It wasn't exactly a nightmare, just a voice saying the same thing over and over again. One she simply ignored, not only because she didn't understand it, because she didn't want anything to get in the way of her good mood and first day back to classes. Frankie was soon off to Transfiguration, in just of a rush she had been last night. After having to endure muggle school for almost two months, Frankie wanted to actually learn something useful and be encouraged to use her magic, not hide it.

She was a little worried about being behind. Although, she was probably the only one beside Tom that had already read through most of the textbook, she hadn't gotten any practice in. Hopefully, she didn't fail. Dumbledore was an assuring presence and made their task a simple one. Turning a match into a needle. It was an easy transformation. They practiced it when they were first learning transfiguration and was the first thing they had ever had to try and change. Frankie was suddenly confident and said the incantation like she normally would.

Nothing.

She tried again, and again, and again.

"Is everything alright, Frankie?" Tom asked, holding a sharp needle that had been obtained on the very first try.

"My magic is gone."


	3. Chapter 3

Bonus Story 3

Powerless (Year 2, Part 2)

What Frankie had meant by her magic was gone, she meant it was _gone._ She wasn't being overdramatic about nothing happening to the matchstick and the possibility of being a little rusty after a few months. Her magic wasn't there. Even when a spell fails, a witch or wizard can still feel the flow of their magic, but she couldn't feel it at all. While the class whispered about this shocking new development, she was rushed to the hospital wing, to get tested. Strangely, this was not the first incident of a wizard or witch losing their magic. A rare occurrence, but not impossible, and most of the time it was just something they ate and their powers returned a few hours later. After going through the various procedures and needle prodding, she waited on a bed in the wing with Tom, who Dumbledore had insisted, as her desk partner, take her up and wait with her until his class was finished and he could deal with the matter.

"Are you certain about this?" Tom asked. She had to have been mistaken. Magic couldn't just disappear all of a sudden, certainly not magic like hers. Although, when they were younger Frankie did not have the same control over her magic as he did, Tom had always found her powers to be superior to his. Unlike him, the only time she had ever used her powers to physically hurt someone else was when she used them to save him from Billy Stubb. She didn't use them like he did and that's what made them so much better in his eyes. Her power is what made him start believing that his powers weren't some evil curse to add on to his miserable, tragic life. They were magic.

"Very." Frankie replied, solemnly. She looked at him with desperation and guilt, like this catastrophe was burdening him and she was already sorry for what could possibly be nothing, "I just got back, Tom. I don't want to have to leave again."

"You won't have to…"

Nurse Glinda glided back over to the bed and they both rose in mental preparation for the results. Frankie clutched Tom's hand, scared of what the results might be. In her mind, she already knew her magic was gone. She had come to terms with that aspect. Her only real worry was about the permanency of her diagnosis. Hopefully, it was not forever.

"It's the strangest thing," Nurse Glinda stated, already indicating that the results were not very optimistic. "The test says she's muggle. No trace of ever having magic whatsoever."

"That's impossible!" Tom shouted in outrage, clearly not as prepared mentally as Frankie was for the news. The stupid nurse must have messed up the results. Frankie's magic couldn't actually be gone. There was no way she was some filthy muggle now after being away from school for only two months, "There's got to be some logical explanation to this."

"I believe I have the answers you are looking for, Tom."

It was Dumbledore. He had arrived right one schedule, like he always did, and like usual Tom was not pleased to see him. He knew that when Dumbledore said he had answers that he no doubt did indeed have them, he just wasn't about to share any of them fully. He was just going to give them little pieces and watched as they either sank or swam in the current situation.

"Are you actually planning on telling us any of them, sir? Or do you merely tease, like you always do?" Tom demanded. Dumbledore nodded, indicating he would indeed tell them what they needed to know. "Then, speak. Where exactly has Frankie's magic gone?"

"It was stolen—"

"Stolen?! You can't steal magic from someone."

"—by Zell Gaunt, an ex-dark wizard from my year of school."

"Are you talking about Dr. Winchester? He certainly was not a wizard, let alone a dark wizard." Frankie added. It just didn't make sense. Why would he have taken her magic? If he really was a wizard, what use could he have for her powers and why would he have hid his true identity from her? Especially when he knew how isolated and alone she was.

"A clever ruse, my dear. I wasn't sure at first, what with the age and vanity adjustments. However, given this turn of events, I'm certain he's the same man." Dumbledore replied.

"How exactly did he take her magic?" Tom questioned, not caring about the man himself. He wanted to know how this was physically possible.

"For centuries, Muggles have constantly been attempting to strip wizards of their power, in different cults and societies, and in all that time they have found one method. The ancient method not only strips a wizard or witch of their powers, it can transfer the magic from one body to another. Driven by fear, the wizards of the time took the method and wiped mankind's memory, to ensure it was never used against them," Dumbledore explained, "However, then wizards figured that, instead of destroying the method, they could use it on their fellow wizards who abused their powers. It's the harshest of all punishments a wizard or witch can receive. Most would rather prefer death to being stripped of their powers and slowly live out their lives weak and powerless."

"And this random guy in the countryside of England just happens to know such a powerful, ancient technique."

"Zell Gaunt knows the ritual because it was performed on himself. Being of muggle origin, it does not require the user to have magic to activate it, which means he was fully capable to take Frankie's powers." Dumbledore reasoned.

"Why would he do this to me?" Frankie inquired, generally, more to herself than anyone. He had been the only one that was truly kind to her, the only one that was there for her to help her through the agonizing days of muggle school and muggle life. Why take her magic and make her subject to that for the rest of her days?

"I asked you yesterday if he heard your name, now with this new information in mind, think it over again. Did you ever let your name slip?"

"I swear I didn't tell him," Frankie protested, in her defense. Although, there was a way he could've recognized her without knowing her real name, that also explained why her real name was dangerous in the first place, "You mentioned he was in your year of school, before. And I know my parents were five years below you. Is there the slightest chance he knew them? He talked often about me baring resemblance to an Elizabeth and that was my mother's name."

"Of course! Elizabeth…"Dumbledore exclaimed, something clicking in his mind. Tom glared at him, eager to know if he planned on sharing his revelation with the rest of the room. However, Dumbledore turned away to exit the wing, "I'm sorry, but I can't say anything else on the matter. Excuse me, but I must contact the Auror office and the ministry, before this man manages to escape. Catching him is the only way we can bring your magic back."

"What about Arthur? He's still there with him." Frankie added, sounding a little worried. If he really was a dangerous dark wizard who had only taken the two in because he knew Frankie was a witch and wanted to take her powers, then Arthur was in grave danger. Now, he had them and Frankie was gone, he had no more use for the muggle boy.

"If he hasn't been killed, he will be re-located and his memory wiped."

"Then, he won't remember me either."

"I'm sorry. It has to be this way." Dumbledore sighed, noticing the slight pain in her voice. He left the wing, hurriedly, considering all that needed to be done and the fact that Tom still wanted answers he could not tell him. Meanwhile, Nurse Glinda went back to her office with nothing more to do but file all the paperwork. The two were left alone in the wing once again.

"To hell with going on a wild goose chase trying to catch that villain, I might know of another way," Tom remarked, surprisingly not too angry at Dumbledore's hasty departure and refusal to give him answers. He looked around the wing, like he was worried someone was watching, before diving into his book bag and pulling out an old journal covered in symbols, "You know that journal we found in the greenhouse? Well, it's not actually the ramblings of a crazy person. Here read the beginning."

_Ogg's illness from being dragged into the first task is getting worst, he can't even conjure a simple Jelly Legs Jinx anymore, and, since Francis is too busy chasing eternal glory to be bothered to help, I have decided to take finding a cure into my own hands. It will be hard work, considering nothing like this has ever happened before, but I'm certain Albus will be able to help me. He has come back for the tournament and has been granted permission to stay at the castle for the rest of the year and assist Professor Grimshaw in teaching Transfiguration. Although, it's been only a few years since he graduated, he is very famous now. I can't imagine why he'd want to come back here, even if only for a school year. I assume he will tell me when he is ready, he can't keep anything from me for long. I'll probably have to gather more people to try and help, though. Albus is still going to be busy and won't always be around to help me. Who should I ask for help? Who would want to help me in the first place? I've got to start looking._

"Come to think of it, I've never seen Ogg do any magic…" Frankie concluded, after reading the passage.

"It goes on. A few of the passages are in English, however, most of the passages are in secret codes and ancient runes. Thankfully, I decided to take that class this term and might be able to decipher them later," Tom added. He flipped to a page he had bookmarked to show her more, "Look here. There's a list here that looks like the ingredients of a potion—"

"So, it could be a potion for anything?" Frankie reasoned, stubbornly.

"Well, I think it's a potion that can restore your magic. That was obviously what the author meant by the gamekeeper's 'illness'."

"Doesn't that mean it didn't work? Ogg still doesn't have magic."

"Or maybe they just didn't have all the information and ingredients to make it work," he argued back, pointing to a particular ingredient amongst the rest of the list, "There's a check by almost everything except _this_."

"Basilisk venom? Putting that in anything would kill you in an instant."

"The venom is canceled out by the phoenix tears, which it's going to take a lot of."

"And where do you expect us to get any of these? Last time I checked, the school isn't exactly crawling with crying phoenixes and giant fifty foot snakes." she added, a bit sarcastically.

"I've got to try something," Tom stated, strongly. "I'm not going to depend on Dumbledore and a bunch of other incompetent adults to get your power back."

"So, you're just going to trust some journal we found in the woods instead?"

"I'm going to trust Elizabeth Broad!" he bellowed, finally growing angry by her resilience to accept his plan. She grew silent at the shocking revelation of who Tom was saying wrote this random book that they had found, "You should to, considering she is your mother."

"Wait, you think that since this journal talks about Ogg and Dumbledore means this journal was—"

"—written by your mother? It makes the most sense. The author talks a lot about your dad with a little loathing and distaste at first, even though it's obvious he's in love with her."

"That sort of sounds like her, from what Ogg has told me about her," Frankie acknowledged, seeing that Tom's hunch was probably right. Ogg said that, although they were all childhood friends back in their hometown, her mother wasn't really all that fond of him and Francis most days. Even when they saved her butt from the Slytherins or when she helped them study for big tests, it was only in their later years when they matured, that she started actually caring about them. "But what was my mother's journal doing hidden in that greenhouse? Why was she even there?"

"I don't know yet, but I intend on finding out." Tom added. "Obviously, she was determined on keeping this journal hidden because it's a key artifact in uncovering some big mysteries hidden within the school. And four hundred miles away in the locked fake bottom of a drawer seemed like a safe enough place, until we came along."

"She said she hid it because she was afraid 'he' would find. Did you ever manage to find out who 'he' is referring to?"

"She mentions 'him' a lot, but unfortunately never gives a name."

"Do you mind if I give it a look for a night or two?" Frankie asked, suddenly. Perhaps reading it would be a nice distraction from her situation for a little while. Her brain would get a chance to be enveloped into her mother's world and she might even be able crack some of the mysteries it held. "It's not like I have anything else to do with my time now."

"Be my guest. I've read it over about a hundred times already anyway."

Nurse Glinda came back out to inform them that Frankie would not have to be Apparated to St. Mungos and that they could now go about their day, so they left the hospital wing. Tom went back to his classes, while Frankie just went back up to Gryffindor common room. They couldn't exactly be expecting her to continue with classes in her condition and she had already been missing for two months anyway. The first thing Frankie did was sleep, knowing it was an easy escape from the problem. However, that ended several hours later with her being incredibly awake, having a throbbing headache, and the sight of all her roommates getting ready for bed. She decided to sneak down to the common room and read the journal, rather than lie in the darkness and do nothing for hours. There was no way she could sleep anymore. Frankie turned on one of the lamps and sat on the couch to read in the dim light. There was no really beginning and end to her mother's journal, so she opened to a random page. The page she had opened to was yellowing and crinkled, covered in crude horrifying profiles of a skeleton-like face that read,

_I'm truly an awful person. I think I only pretend to tolerate Him and his sickly distorted face, yet in reality he frightens me and I'm just as horrid as everyone else is. Most times he is a kind creature, especially to me, however, his rage blazes out of control and I can see very clearly his placement in Slytherin house was not only based on his family name. Francis tells me to stay away, in his mind all Slytherins are bad, but thinks so lowly of him especially. Even Cora, his own sister, tells me I should be wary of him. However, I know better than to judge someone by the color of their tie and their family. Even though he frightens me, I cannot seem to stay away. He needs my help…_

"Sounds like a real life Christine, my mother. I wonder if Gaston Leroux is also a wizard…"

_That's it!_

"What's that?"

Frankie's revelation was paused when she looked up to find her Gryffindor boys all standing in a line from behind the couch, resting their arms and looking down at her with curiosity. Quin, Aidan, Ethan, even Paul and Elric. Not expecting them after lights out, she recoiled and quickly stowed the journal under the couch cushion she was sitting up against, even though all of them had already clearly seen her with it.

"Nothing!" Frankie exclaimed, suspiciously acting as if she hadn't just been caught in the act. She had no stealth whatsoever. She didn't know why she felt the need to hide the journal, if they saw it they'd probably think she was mad for believing some of the things in there. However, it felt like something Tom would've wanted her to do, keep it all a secret.

"Okay, jumpy. You don't have to tell us about the book. I don't like reading anyway," Quin remarked, with a small laugh at her highly paranoid attitude they brought on. "But, do you care to at least enlighten us on what the diagnosis of your magic is? We've been wondering about it all day."

"Is it really gone?" Paul added, sounding concerned.

"Yes." Frankie replied, simply, obviously not wanting to elaborate any further. Of course, then again, there wasn't really much more to elaborate on, besides all the speculations and theories. She definitely could not tell them her magic was stolen and Tom was convinced they could make a potion from Basilisk venom to get it back. That plan still sounded insane, even to her.

"That's rough. What're you supposed to do now?" Elric questioned, as if that were supposed to somewhat comforting. It really wasn't.

"Nothing. Dumbledore's handling it."

"So, you're just supposed to sit here and wait. That seems—"

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I no longer wish to discuss the matter further. I've had a long, stressful day and I just want to go to bed and pretend it never happened." Frankie snapped, grabbing the journal from under the pillow she stashed it and racing for the stairs. She just didn't want the pitying looks and mounds of sympathy. It drove her up the wall when people treated her like some poor defenseless thing. She had just survived almost five months without magic, if you included summer at the orphanage. Although, she'd rather not have to, she could survive a lifetime without it if she needed to.

"Alright, sorry. We'll leave you alone, but if there's anything we can do to help…" Aidan added, despite her angry outburst. Frankie stopped her pace halfway up the stairs to turn back and look at them. Perhaps, she was being a bit too hostile. They really just wanted to help her and, who knows, maybe there would be a place for them in Tom's crazy scheme.

"I'll let you know…"

Meanwhile, in Slytherin dorms the 2nd year boys were staying up past lights out as well, talking about the exact same subject. Besides Tom and Peter, who was only cut off because Tom's bed was in between his and Malfoy's, all the other boys were on their respective beds conversing still after all this time about the breaking news. Only they were not being as kind and compassionate as the Gryffindor boys, naturally. They found Frankie's predicament quite funny.

"I hear it's flat out gone. She actually lost her magic." Lestrange cackled, although there probably wasn't any source of information. The Gryffindor girl's misfortune was just too much for them, a powerful, pack of pureblooded wizards. While Tom, blood status currently still unknown and secretly rather close to the girl they were talking shit about, was gritting his teeth, trying to read one of his textbooks and act like he didn't care.

"What a laugh! What kind of moron loses her magic? Is that even physically possible?" Malfoy sneered, despite his apparent fancy to the girl.

"Her personality always seemed more muggle then magical anyway." Avery reasoned.

"You were forced to go up with her Tom, is it all true? Is she really powerless?" Malfoy questioned, suddenly turning to Tom and roping him into the conversation he knew he didn't want to be in. Lestrange and Avery also turned, remembering Tom was in fact the only one who currently knew the truth besides the teachers.

"It's true." Tom replied, simply, not elaborating or looking up to address them. The truth was bound to get out whether he told or not.

"That is hysterical! What was the cause?" Malfoy inquired. Something in Tom just seemed to snap at the question. The mixture of arrogance and cruelty, when it was directed at someone he cared about, was more than he could take. How dare they laugh at her for losing her magic? It wasn't her fault and, Frankie didn't want it to show, but she was more frightened then she let on. This situation was not something to laugh about.

"I wouldn't be laughing so much if I were you, idiots. Her magic was _stolen_," Tom shouted, for the first time not caring that he was showing any sort of feeling towards a girl he was supposed to hate. They shouldn't be talking about her like this. "There's actually a technique out there that can take a wizard's magic and it could happen to any one of you next, if you don't watch your mouths."

Suddenly, in the midst of the silence Tom's stentorian yell had brought, was the sound of tapping on the window by his bed. Knowing immediately of the cause by now, he rushed to grab the paper crane from the sill,

_Tom! I've found out some things. It's really not much, but I feel like I should tell you now, before I forget. Sneak out and meet me downstairs in classroom 1-B. It's unused, but should be one of the unlocked ones._

_P.S Don't pretend to be a sleep. I know you're still awake._

"Just because I'm still awake, doesn't mean it's by choice. My roommates just never shut up."

Tom had just arrived in the classroom 1-B to find the girl causing a commotion downstairs, sitting on an old desk in the bright light of the full moon, her hazel eyes wide awake despite the late hour. He crossed his arms, like he was angry with her for this sudden summons, but honestly he was eternally grateful she had rescued him from a room of idiots.

"You stay up late at the orphanage too. You're the only person I know on this earth who hates to sleep." Frankie replied, wittingly.

"It only seems like that because I normally have this annoying girl knocking on my door at midnight every other day, keeping me awake." Tom reasoned, just as logically. She smiled for the first time all day. "So, what did you find that couldn't wait until morning?"

"I was reading this passage about 'him' and noticed these drawings in the blank spaces of what I thought were just crude skeletons. However, then I noticed that they vaguely resembled someone familiar," Frankie explained. "They all look a little like Dr. Winchester and they're actually meant to be profiles of 'him'. Dr. Winchester is 'him' and, according to Dumbledore, also Zell Gaunt."

"It looks nothing like him. Are you sure?"

"Yes. He once told me that he and my mother's relationship was similar to the _Phantom of the Opera_ and, unlike Erik, he had the magic to fix his distortion when he got older. That's what Dumbledore meant by 'vanity adjustments' earlier."

"I got none of those references. What are you even talking about?"

"We don't have time for you read the novel, so you're going to have to trust me. I think that it's him," she answered, simply, holding back the feeling of wanting to explain every detail of her new favorite book to him. She'd make him read it later when they actually had time, but right now they might've been onto something much more important. "We should start by going to the library tomorrow after classes and start doing some research on the Gaunt family."

"Why wait? We've already broken the curfew, so we might as well go right now." Tom added, already grasping her hand and starting to pull her forward. Normally, he was not one for rule breaking, the fact he had even answered this summoning was odd enough. But he was desperate to save her magic as soon as possible. No time should be wasted, "Unless you're afraid."

"What else have I got to lose?" she sighed, woefully.

"Is muggle Frankie always going to be this morbid? It's a bit of a refreshing change from the uncompromising optimism, but after a while it might get a little depressing, even for me."

"Not always," Frankie stated, cracking a small smile. He didn't actually like to see her despair at all, so she simply decided she wouldn't anymore. For him. "because we're going to get my powers back, right?"

"Of course."

The library was even more silent than usual. The books lay oddly still in their normal spots in the various aisles, like any other library book would. The grand space was vacant and vast. When they entered with a lantern held high, it felt an awful like they were raiding a tomb, rather than going to read a few books in the darkness. They started with the records aisle, an aisle that seemed to be designed specifically for quests such as this.

"The complete Gaunt family tree. 1200's through the 1900's_._ This should do nicely, for a start." Tom said, pulling a book from the alphabetized selection and taking extra second to start searching. Thankfully, the people they were looking for weren't too far back, it took him only a minute to find them, "Well, it looks like Zell Gaunt is real. He also had a younger sister, Cora, which should've been in the same year as your parents. I believe your mother mentions her a few times."

"Well, that's not too helpful. We need to find something else with information on the family itself. What they were like and how powerful they were. Who started the family?" she grabbed the book and skipped all the way to the back real quick, to look at the first name, and flipped back with the name in mind, "Cadmus Peverell. Why does that name sound so familiar? Let's see…Ah! Wait a minute, I remember."

She ran into the darkness to fetch another book. Tom would've been somewhat concerned at her sudden exit, yelled at her not to run off without him, if his eyes had not gotten fixed on a very peculiar thing. He stared at it for the longest time, seemingly perplexed, until Frankie returned with the book she had been looking for,

"The Gaunt's were actually descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. They're a powerful, dark, pureblood family that—" she started to explain, but almost immediately saw that he was not listening. All his attention was still fixed around the area of Zell and Cora Gaunt, "Tom, what are you staring at so intently?"

"My mother." he replied, his eyes still glued to the picture of a woman.

"Your mother?" Frankie questioned, sounding unsure. She followed his eyes to who he thought she was. The picture was of a young girl with straggly dark hair, who wasn't exactly beautiful. If she was in fact Tom's mother, the orphanage workers sure got it right. She didn't look a thing like Tom did. Her name was Merope and she and her brother, Morfin were cousins of Zell and Cora, "What makes you think this Merope Gaunt is your mother?"

"She died the day I was born and her father is name Marvolo, my middle name."

"What about you and your father? Shouldn't you both be here, if that's the case?"

"I must be somewhat illegitimate, she went to an orphanage to have me, after all. Her family must not have approved of Tom Riddle Sr., which probably meant he was…"

"A Muggle?"

"Most likely. I mean one of the first things I did practically upon entrance into Hogwarts was search for my father, what with all my roommates going on and on about blood status. He's not in any of these books. "

"You never said anything about looking for your father before. I would've helped you, if I had known you were looking for him."

"Well, I didn't want to bother you with something like that, especially after what you found out about your parents. It's a raw subject for any orphan."

"Are you upset by this discovery?" she asked, noticing the slight change in his voice and expression. He found his mother and his family, yet he was obviously not happy.

"My father is a muggle and I can only assume he's not a good one, considering he left my mother and me. Meanwhile, the Gaunt's hands are not exactly clean either," Tom reasoned, more to himself then her. He had thought when he eventually found his family that they would prove he was not destined for evil and was just a victim of bad circumstances. Whoever they were, they would want him, even if his father didn't. However, they were all wicked creatures. Everything he did, the way he used his magic, even his attitude, it was all justified. "My blood is dirty."

"It means you're descended from one of the four founders of Hogwarts and come from very powerful wizarding lineage, which frankly overshadows you're stupid blood status." she added, trying to lift his spirits and turn away from bad thinking.

"It also means I'm related to the man who stole your magic and probably several dozen other dark wizards and horrid individuals." he argued back, as if that canceled it out. He would've also liked to mention that Salazar Slytherin wasn't exactly a great person, either. He left the other founders in disgrace after having a hissy-fit about the blood status of the students admitted to Hogwarts. Tom held back on that, having at least a little respect for the man who created his house.

"Did you take my magic?" Frankie snapped, suddenly, placing her hands on her hips.

"No, of course not—"

"And are you a dark wizard?"

"Never."

"Then, don't even think about trying to blame yourself for some of the horrible things your relatives have done. Just because they turned bad doesn't mean that you will," Frankie explained. "They may technically be your blood, but family doesn't end with blood. The Gaunts and the Riddles lost any sort of right to you when they left you at Wool's orphanage 12 years ago. You're mine now."

"I'm yours?" Tom questioned, choosing only to address that last juicy statement she had blurted out in the moment.

"I-I—mean you're my family, not like I own you are anything." she stammered, covering her mouth with her hands a bit out of embarrassment. Even in such dim light he could see her blushing feverishly.

"Of course," Tom replied. She couldn't see in the darkness of the night, but he was properly smiling at her for once. Although, his feelings weren't exactly brotherly towards her, she was the only person he'd ever cared about and cared about him in return. She was the closest thing he had to a true family. "Come on, we'd better return before the Fat Lady falls asleep. If she does, it'll be impossible to get you back into the common room again."

Frankie was strangely able to sleep after the faithful meeting, despite all that had happened and how much she had already slept. She woke up on time with the rest of the girls to get ready for yet another day of lessons. However, Frankie hesitated putting on her uniform and was soon reminded it would not be a day like every other. The feeling would continue to haunt her every day, unless her magic returned. She didn't depend on it, but it was a part of her. Although, she didn't know how long exactly it had been gone for, knowing it was gone made her feel so lost. They couldn't expect her to actually go to classes in her condition. What could she possibly do there, being two months behind and powerless?

"Don't make me go to class, sir. If I can't do magic—"

"Your friends will help and support you through it," Dumbledore replied, breezily, to her protests. Frankie had left breakfast early to catch up with him before Transfiguration started to argue with him about her attendance. "You really wanted to come back to school, didn't you?"

"Yes, but not like this. Now, it just feels pointless for me to be here." Frankie answered, stubbornly.

"I'm sure you'll be alright, my dear. Trust me."

Trust him, Trust him, that's all he ever says. He never tells her anything, she's just supposed to just run along and let him solve everything. Well, maybe trusting him was asking a little too much of her this time. Frankie wasn't about to do nothing at a time so vital, sit in the dark waiting while Dumbledore seemingly takes care of it all. She reluctantly went to her seat, defeated, for now. Tom came in a few seconds later, arriving rather early to the first class of the day was normal for him.

"Shouldn't you be resting or something?" he asked, sitting in the seat beside her, looking a bit puzzled as to why she was here today.

"It's not going to help. Dumbledore insists I continue on as if nothing is wrong." she answered.

"But everyone knows, it's already buzzing around the school," Tom reported, as if this were news to her. Whispers are not always as quiet as they seem, Frankie had already heard the talk and felt the stares this morning. She was famous. A muggle in Hogwarts. "That's what my roommates were so rowdy about last night. They're having an absolute field day with this."

"Are you worried about me getting hurt? Because I don't need magic to protect myself." Frankie questioned, huffily.

"Physical pain isn't what I'm worried about," Tom remarked. Wizards weren't exactly so into physical reparation against muggles, like the muggles were to them. They'd sooner attack their own kind, then attack a muggle. Someone who could fight back, a fair fight. However, they could be just as mentally cruel, especially the children. They're only human. "You could hardly handle teasing in the muggle world for being a wizard and now you're going to get the same sort of harassment here for being a muggle."

"There's nothing I can do about that."

"There's something we can do about it, though," he added, with a knowing glance. "Care to continue research in the library after classes?"

She nodded with a soft smile and they spent a few more moments in a world of their own. Then, people started shifting in and Tom had to pretend not to look at her, not to stand the sight of her. Normally, it was easy. He was rather good at acting. However, today he found it difficult not to stand up for her, as he did last night to the Slytherins. Shout at anyone who dared to speak about her in whispers, silence anyone who dared to laugh at her as she passed. The day went slowly for him, especially the classes without her, but Tom had the promise of a meeting to keep him pushing through it. He could only hope Frankie felt the same about their little research trip to the library. This situation was getting to her. He knew that she was strong and brave, she didn't need him to dote on her and protect her, but this was all too much for her to handle by herself. To hell with the secrecy, he needed to be there for her this time. Thankfully, classes finally ended and they could hide between the aisles of books, unbothered and alone. Although, frankly, Tom found himself wanting someone to catch them together. He was done pretending.

"I'm spent. Nothing in this makes sense with my current knowledge in runes and the rest is either in some other secret code I can't decipher or gibbering English that vaguely makes sense," Tom sighed, in frustration, slamming the journal shut. Frankie had just returned with more history books from a few aisles over, while he was sitting in the middle of the runes and other magical code's aisle surrounded by several ancient runes books, years above the beginner class. They all made sense to him, but weren't adding up with the journal. He eyed her ever so slightly, with a dark and mischievous glance. "Your mother was brilliant. I can see where you get it."

The statement caused her to blush and gibber nonsensically at the floor. Since he decided not to give a damn about people seeing them, he thought he might as well try actually flirting with her for once. Basically, Tom had done nothing since he realized his greater feelings for the girl. Most boys would say flattering things to try and impress a girl they like, but that wasn't really in Tom's character. However, at his current rate of wooing, he wouldn't confess how he truly felt about her until he was a wretched old man. He wasn't about to wait that long, which meant he actually had to try.

"Calm down, would you. It was only a compliment." Tom added, looking at her reaction and realizing his little comment might've been too much of a step for her to handle.

"A compliment from Tom Riddle is a rare thing. I don't know how to react properly." Frankie replied, for a-matter-of-fact, yet still looking down at the ground with a feverish expression.

"A simple thank you would suffice."

"Thank you, then." she smiled, looking back up at him finally. "Let's get back to researching. Did you find anything when I was gone?"

"Well, there was this. It's probably nothing, but it stuck out to me." he replied, opening the journal and quickly shuffling through the pages for the right one. Frankie moved books out of the way, so she could crouch down beside him and see the pages. It was a short phrase in the bottom left corner,

_Horace and Cora are strange for Slytherins. They are not like the others._

"There she goes mentioning Cora again. Now, we know it's Cora Gaunt, at least."

"Do you think they were friends?" Frankie inquired, a hopeful little rise in her voice. Their relatives, friends. It was a nice concept to think that far before they were even thought of they had roots together. A friendship like theirs was indeed possible and that they were always fated to meet and become friends as well.

"Possibly. However, remember that she's a Gaunt. She must've had some sort of angle in befriending your mother." Tom added, still skeptic. He didn't actually know anyone of his family, let alone they existed up until last night, but he got the sense they weren't actually noble, good people of a high power family. None of them had ever turned into something respectable and the name would continue on that path, if Tom wasn't careful with his actions and his attitude.

"She said she wasn't like other Slytherins, though. Now, what does that mean? Also, why does that other name sound so familiar…?" Frankie remarked. They both thought on the other name for a moment, before realizing it was the name of someone rather close to them,

"Slughorn!"

"We have to go talk to him right away. He might now something about all this." Tom added, quickly getting up and hoping over the pile of books. Although, he didn't care about the mess Frankie insisted they put them away before going to find Slughorn. It didn't take long considering the books found their own spots. They left the library for Slughorn's office immediately after they finished.

"Why if it isn't my most prized students. Good afternoon, you two," Slughorn greeted, upon seeing the pair of them at his door. "How're you feeling, my dear?"

"My health is fine other than…"

"That's kind of what were here about, actually," Tom remarked, getting more to the point. He let them inside to sit on the couches, expecting this to be longer conversation then he first thought. "The gamekeeper was telling us about how he was caught in a similar situation in his seventh year and was unable to get his magic back. Since you were in the same year, we were wondering if you could explain a little more about it to us."

"Well, Ogg and I weren't exactly the best of friends back then. I've surely mentioned how he and Francis, used to bully me. Needless to say, I relished in the fact that his magic was gone." Slughorn replied, taking up the seat across from them.

"How well were you acquainted with Cora Gaunt?" He slightly flinched at the question and looked at with them with a bit of suspicion, which Tom recognized as a sign. Slughorn did know something, he had once had a connection with the girl and judging by the look he was giving him it was a secret he did not want to tell. Tom quickly had to think of reason for his questioning, or else he would find out what they were really up to. "I recently came to find out that she is a relative of mine."

"How very peculiar. I thought they mostly died out trying to preserve their blood status."

"Apparently not. I am certain they are my blood."

"I always knew there was something special about you." Slughorn smiled. Special? Tom certainly hadn't been seeing it that way so far. Sure being descended from such a powerful family meant he would probably grow into a powerful wizard, that immortal man he saw in the mirror. However, he couldn't turn an eye away at all the evil they produced. He didn't want to turn into a person like Zell Gaunt someday. "Are you Morfin's or Merope's son?"

"Merope. Did you know my mother? Did she go here too?" Tom questioned, rapidly, not being able to hold back a smidge of hope in his own voice. Maybe his mother wasn't as pitiful as he always thought she was, maybe she was once a powerful witch. Confident, witty and bright. It wouldn't justify what she did to him, but it would help null some of the pain of her abandonment. Perhaps, Tom Riddle Sr. tricked her into love and out of magic, maybe he somehow knew the technique and was some kind of witch hunter. They couldn't have actually been in love, he knew that much about his parents. Without magic, her will to no longer keep living seemed a little more understandable. It seemed a little outlandish of a theory, but there were still too many gaps in his parent's history to even attempt to discover a plausible explanation.

"No, that branch of the family never attended school, I've only heard certain rumors about the members. They had decided that self-teaching and homeschooling were far better alternatives for such a noble family then Hogwarts. Very stuck up, if you ask me." Slughorn answered.

"So, my mother didn't go to school and she married a muggle. That's-that's—"

"It doesn't matter, Tom." Frankie stated, putting a reassuring hand on his, knowing that it would stop him from going into an angry rant. He looked at her for a moment and calmed down a little. Tom simmered in a silent rage, indicating it was Frankie's turn to be asking the questions for a while. "Back to Cora, how good of friends were you?"

"We talked from time to time. Even within the house, she was very quiet and secluded. There was only one person who ever tried reaching out to her."

"My mother."

"How did you know?"

"She mentioned her, before she died. I remember her talking about a Cora."

"And not about me or Albus?" Slughorn questioned, with more suspicion then dispirit. Unlike Tom's lie about going to the gamekeeper, which was perfectly believable considering he lived on the school grounds, Slughorn actually knew Elizabeth. Certainly, better than her own daughter. If she was telling her stories about her old school days, he and Albus would've definitely come up at some point.

"My memories aren't perfect, but I'm sure she talked about you too." Frankie reassured him. Although, truthfully, her mother probably didn't talk about any of them at all. Frankie could hardly remember anything from her past, but she knew if it was even somewhat magical it was not ever mentioned in that house.

"Right. Well, your mother adored that girl, for some odd reason. She was so eager to be her friend," Slughorn explained, with a soft smile. He was probably thinking about her mother, that girl he once knew a long time ago. Maybe an attempt or two trying to befriend a girl who didn't want friends. "Perhaps, it was because she thought Cora was different from the other Slytherin girls. She was just as outcasted in her own house, as well. None of the girls in Gryffindor would talk to your mother."

"Why not? Was there something wrong with her?" Tom asked, finally simmered down enough to re-enter the conversation.

"She was a strange girl. Beautiful and kindhearted, but had an affinity for saying weird things and creating awkward situations. You were either in love with her or you thought she was as mad as the Mad Hatter." Slughorn replied, with a bit of a chuckle.

"Did you like her, sir?"

"She was my only real friend. I wasn't so popular myself, back in our school days. I can't count all the times she stood against Ogg and Francis to save me from their teasing and pranks. I would've done anything to help her in return."

"Including inventing a potion to bring Ogg's powers back." Tom stated, suddenly. Frankie and Slughorn looked at him with surprise and shock. It was a drastic step, just Tom couldn't take more of this dancing around the truth and just hoping they get the answers that they needed through clever question asking. He was getting too impatient.

"What-in-the—did he tell you that?"

"Yes, he did."

"Well, that's highly secretive stuff. We promised Elizabeth we'd take it to our grave, for if 'he' were ever to find out—"

"Zell Gaunt." Frankie muttered, just loud enough for Slughorn to hear. He made an even more shocked face at Frankie's reveal. They knew who 'he' was and, judging by Slughorn's expression, that was even worst then knowing about his little potion. "He's the one who stole my powers."

"Oh, my dear. Oh no, my dear…" Slughorn sighed, sympathetically. "I'm afraid if you seek the potion, the recipe is long since gone. Don't ask me. I don't remember a thing."

"No, we have it right here." Tom added, revealing the journal, like it was no big deal. Slughorn's eyes widened, obviously recognizing the book immediately.

"Where on earth did you get that? Elizabeth said she would burn it. Give it here! That thing is incredibly dangerous." Slughorn yelled, making a break to swipe the journal from Tom. However, Tom was too quick for him and was easily able to keep it within his possession.

"We came across it by chance, hidden in a greenhouse in Cotswold during our summer vacation. Care to explain to us what it might have been doing there?"

"Elizabeth had just graduated, stopped in that small town on her travels, while Zell Gaunt had just been exiled there after being stripped of his powers. Not recognizing him as the grotesque creature who had been obsessed with her, he was able to strike up a friendship with her. She let her guard down. He trapped her and kept her there for an entire year, before he eventually let her go."

"_What?_"

"Why didn't she use her magic to escape?" Tom questioned, ignoring Frankie's shocked outburst and thinking on the more logical side, rather than the emotional one. He'd console her if she was upset about it later, but right now they were on the verge getting the real answers they wanted.

"Snapped her wand in half before she had the chance to use it against him, or some sort of blackmail. I'm not sure why she never tried to run away. She didn't even tell Francis that it ever happened."

"He could've just taken her magic." Tom reasoned. He was disappointed in his relative as a villain. Although, he sure didn't want what had happened to Frankie happening to her mother either, thinking logically he should've just taken her magic. He'd have the power to continue whatever his evil plans were before he got his powers taken and still keep Frankie's mum, if he wanted. Easier to contain if she didn't have magic. Suddenly, it struck him that one of his relative had a borderline obsession to one of Frankie's. Hopefully, she didn't process that cause he found it actually somewhat embarrassing.

"Although, it would've been prudent to just take her magic from her, I assume he couldn't bear to do that to her, make her suffer such a life."

"Why was taking her magic any different from taking mine?" Frankie inquired. She just didn't understand why that seemingly sweet man she met would've taken her magic and, the more she found out, the more it didn't make any sense.

"You only look like your mother, dear. It's a nice fantasy, having the one you love seemingly come back to you from death, but looking at it logically you're not the same person. You're her kin with another man and he must've realized that," Slughorn explained, patting her on the shoulder as if that was supposed to make her feel any better. "Now, Dumbledore will do all he can to track down that monster and get your magic back, my dear. There's no need to attempt to make my damned potion. You kids are just going to end up getting yourselves into trouble. Give me the journal—"

"No!" Tom shouted back, clutching the journal to his chest to protect it. He wasn't about to let anyone take the only chance they actually had to get Frankie's magic back. "I'm sorry, sir. We need to try to do this our own way. Trust us. Please."

"Fine. I won't get in your way, for now. However, I have two conditions. First, you will not let this get out of hand and put yourselves in danger," Slughorn sighed, reluctantly. He probably knew that it wasn't a good idea to let them continue to pursue this, but he also knew that they were both bright and could not be stopped now. They weren't going to listen to him and, journal or not, they would find a way. The two nodded in agreement to the first term and he continued with his second one, "Second, you keep that thing hidden, don't go telling people about it, unless they are necessary. Dumbledore would have a fit if he saw that thing again. You'll get far more of an earful from him if he catches you, considering he was actually in the secret society they had. I really was just an outside consultant."

"I believe two conditions also rewards us with two hints, before the subject is tabooed. Don't you think, Frankie?" Tom added, probably pushing his luck. But the more answered he could weasel out of Slughorn would help them in the long run and he really hadn't helped them all that much with decoding the journal or telling them where to at least start.

"I'll give you two hints. Then, you're on your own. I don't want to hear any more about this." Slughorn spoke, sternly. As if he were actually putting his foot down, rather than giving them exactly what they wanted all along. He retrieved his wand from his desk drawer and pointed it suddenly at Tom and the journal, "Hold the book open. Any page will do."

_Violetus illuminati._

"First hint, some of the best secrets are hidden in plain sight."

The two looked to see what he was talking about. There were glowing purple letters illuminated from the light of Slughorn's wand,

_This situation has evolved into something so much more than just saving Ogg. This school has so many horrifying dark secrets and it seems that I've been placed on a path to discovering them. However, I'm still merely a pawn in all of this. The four heirs are the only ones who can unlock their descendant's four biggest secrets and within those secrets are the key ingredients to saving Ogg. _

"Find the four founders, that's the second hint. Of course, the page could've told you that. However, I dare to say, that you've already got two of them."

"We do?"

"I thought you would know who your father was and why he was such a prideful, pompous ass most of the time." Slughorn replied, directing his attention towards solely Frankie. She gasped at the realization of what he was actually saying to her. Considering her house, it was not hard to guess who she was descendent from and Tom couldn't say he was very surprised to find it so. "Looks like I don't need to worry about you two. You're obviously not going to get very far."

"Of course not, sir. A muggle and a half-blood. We're not going to get anywhere with this." Tom smiled, sarcastically. Although, a seemingly cruel statement, he knew Slughorn wasn't serious. His prized students would get farther with this then possibly even the original team did.

"You know me, sir. I've got my father's smarts." Frankie smiled, as well, also picking up on Slughorn's lack of seriousness.

"Very good, now run along you two. Supper starts in twenty minutes and you don't want to be late." Slughorn remarked, sitting down at his desk, apparently not intending to go with them. They did as they were told and exited out in to corridor to run off to the Great Hall.

"You heard the man. Time to find the other two founders of Hogwarts and have a little reunion," Tom exclaimed, with an extremely odd sort of spring in his step as they walked along. Suppose he was somewhat happy from actually getting somewhere and having a clear idea of what to do next. "Then, we get your magic back and everything can finally go back to our version of normal."

"It's as simple as that, is it?" Frankie laughed. He acted like it was an easy task. However, she wouldn't be so surprised if he was able to figure out who the other founders were in a matter of hours. Something about him just seemed more confident today. Although, the usual Tom did not bother her, it was nice to see this side of him. This determined and goal driven boy. And it was all for her sake.


	4. Chapter 4

Bonus Story 4

The Third and Fourth Founders (Year 2, Part 3)

Well, it didn't actually take hours, considering all the records they had to go through and family name changes over the past several centuries. It took weeks to go through things and they still weren't getting even close to a possible suspect. The Ravenclaw line seemed to die with the death of Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter, and the Hufflepuffs had so many offspring in the family line the descendent could be practically anyone at this point in time. Although, there was a slight chance that they weren't even in the school at all. There was no way of knowing. Tom had hoped to find them both by winter holiday, so if they had any artifacts or something at their homes that might give them anymore clues, they could bring them back to school with them.

However, with only three days till the break and him and Frankie still trapped under mounds of books in the library, having no clue who the other two founders might be, that fantasy did not seem likely. So, the two sat at a table, surrounded by every piece of literature they could obtain about Hogwarts and the founders in a search that seemed like only means to an end at this point.

"We've got to come up with more practical method of research. I'm starting to not like books as much as I used to." Tom sighed, obviously frustrated by the lack of results. He closed yet another Hufflepuff history book and slammed it into the pile of already read books. This was getting tedious and wearisome. They needed to find the founder's heirs some other way. But what other way was there?

"Well, it's not like we can go around asking people, 'Hey, are you a descendent of one of the four founders of Hogwarts?'" Frankie argued. She understood his urgency, but there wasn't any other way to do this thing. Slughorn warned them about trust, Frankie's mother had too. They didn't know if whoever the descendants were actually going to agree to help them, or just turn them into the headmaster.

"That would be a very bizarre question indeed."

A voice had drifted in from their left and they turned to find Prue Thompson, a Ravenclaw from their year, slightly smiling for obviously catching them in the act of doing something secret that she was not supposed to have overheard. "Fancy meeting you here, my wallflowers. Might I inquire what you two are doing?"

"Just a bit of extra research on the founding of the school." Tom replied, hoping it would make what she just heard somewhat justified.

"How interesting. Is it going well?"

"Not very. We're having a bit of trouble getting the answers we need."

"You know, I'm actually a descendent of the Ravenclaws. Not directly from Rowena herself, but still I might be of some assistance." Prue replied, to much surprise. Tom and Frankie mouths almost actually fell open at the sudden shocking discovery.

"It's—it's—"

"Calm yourself, Frankie. You'll scare her off." Tom added, to Frankie's excited stammering. Although, Tom wanted to be skeptical and question her claim to such noble lineage, he had always had a weird feeling about Prue. She had always known she was going to be in Ravenclaw and had enough intelligence to rival him and Frankie's, perhaps even more. It wouldn't be such a crazy claim in her case. "It turns out, Prue, you are exactly what we need…"

"So, if I'm understanding right, you two are on a quest to get Frankie's powers back and the potion that can do that requires gathering the four founders and having them unlock their secrets hidden within the school." Prue reiterated, after Tom explained the current situation to her.

"Yes, I believe there are four essential ingredients hidden within the castle. The fur of Aslan, the claw of the Bludgeoned Badger, the wing from one of Rowena's ravens, and the venom of a Basilisk, which are all here in places only descendants from the bloodline can access." Tom explained, referring to the four ingredients with four differently colored bullet points by them. Red, yellow, blue and green, of course.

"Oh Prue, I know it sounds outlandish, but we have all sorts of facts to prove it." Frankie reasoned, thinking she heard skepticism in Prue's voice. Prue, however, just stared at her blankly, like she had no idea what Frankie was saying.

"I'm inclined to believe you."

"Really? It's that simple."

"What reason would you have to lie to me?" Prue inquired, simply, like it was such an easy concept. It was remarkable considering Tom was a pathological liar and they both weren't really that acquainted with her. To think that she would just simply trust and follow them because they asked. "Considering you two are descendants of the founders as well, I believe we're destined to work together. Not matter what the crisis."

"How did you know we're descendants?"

"I've known practically since the moment we met. I get this strange sort of feeling whenever I'm around you two, you omit this strange aura," Prue replied, making several arm gestures to epitomize what she meant by aura. "I suppose you both wouldn't notice it considering you've always been together, but didn't you feel anything odd when you met me in Madam Malkin's for the first time?"

"A bit, but I thought it was just the shock of meeting someone else our own age with magic for the first time." Frankie answered, trying to think back to that moment she and Tom had first met Prue. She had always thought it was the shock of meeting someone else their own age from the magical world, but maybe it wasn't just that. Thinking back to when she first met Tom, she thought she was drawn to him just because he was lonely and looked like he needed a friend. However, maybe it was more of because he had a different feeling about him then everyone else there. A familiar and comforting feeling, even though he couldn't stand her and was practically ignoring her for the first week of her stay at the orphanage.

"You couldn't have bothered to bring it up at all in the last year we've known you. We both just found out about our lineage a few weeks ago." Tom snapped, ignoring the whole spiritual aura thing and getting back to the more serious conversation. She knew who they were since day one and said nothing about it.

"It's not like we're exactly friends. I like you two well enough, but we've never once had a conversation out of class."

"Sorry, but that's kind of how this school is engineered to run."

"Is that why I've never actually seen you guys socialize together till practically now? Do you really pretend not to stand her, Tom?" Prue questioned, with a smug smirk on her face, knowing she'd gotten Tom into a conversation he probably didn't want to have in front of Frankie.

"Yes, well I'll admit I was determined to keep my image up with the boys in my house, but I'm done with that idiocy now," Tom trying to play it off coolly like it had not been such a big deal or a secret. However, it was not something he wanted Frankie to exactly know about, considering he'd said some cruel things about her to them he wasn't exactly proud of. "I want to save Frankie and I'm not going to let some stupidly glorified, color-coded system stop me from trying to help her get her magic back."

"How noble of you, to defy the status quo for such a cause," Prue smiled at him. "I certainly won't let that be in vain. Let me help you, if I can."

"Well, now that we have you, what we need to do is find the last of the founders. A Hufflepuff. You wouldn't happen to have any leads, would you?"

"I can't say that I do." Prue replied. Tom sighed. The last founder was going to be harder to find then Prue was, considering the Hufflepuff line and the fact that they certainly weren't going to get as lucky they did with Prue having revealed herself. "However, I might have an idea about how to get them…"

"_Isn't this somewhat against the rules?"_

The next day, Frankie and Tom were walking briskly down Gargoyle Corridor on their way to the headmaster's office. Obviously, up to no good and only on their way because they knew that Headmaster Dippet would not be there. Tom was usually not one for trouble like this, without his past of torturing of orphans he was actually seen as kind of a do-gooder, teacher's pet here at school. However, this was Prue's plan.

"What? Breaking into the headmaster's office and to look at the confidential student files? Oh, definitely." Tom replied, with a bit of smug sarcasm in his voice. The question was stupid. Of course, they were going to get in trouble over something like this. That was, if they got caught, which was something Tom did not do often. He was confident they could get in and out with ease, only Frankie had her doubts, being the actual do-gooder out of the two. "Look, Prue said this kind of information should be in all the decedent's personal files, except probably mine."

"What was Prue thinking? We could get expelled doing something like this!"

"Right, they're going to expel two of the schools actual descendants. Both who're orphans with practically nowhere else to go and one who is a poor helpless girl that got her magic stolen because the school lost her for two months. That's all going to go over so well with the press." Tom retorted back, with a forced laugh and as much sarcasm as he could conjure in the moment. He had obviously had all his arguments ready to go, if they were caught. The last thing he'd stand for is having them be expelled from school and possibly getting his powers taken away too. Tom didn't want either of them living muggle life any longer than once a summer, until they were seventeen. "We've got a plan, we'll be just fine."

"Did we really need to start an actual fight though? Couldn't we have just said there was one?" A big part of Prue's plan, although a bit reckless, was pretty genius. She had Tom and Frankie both tell the boys of their year the other house had been talking ill of them and coming up with all sorts of nasty things to say about their mothers. Knowing the boys of their houses, they wouldn't stand for it and would plan to put the other house in it's place. Apparently, that was all they needed to do, considering the fact that the Slytherin and Gryffindor boys were currently in a full out brawl on the ground floor. Dippet would have no choice but to come down and deal with the matter.

"Where's the fun in that? They really should learn not to be so easily manipulated anyway." Tom added, nonchalantly. While Tom could care less about sending his 'friends' into a bloody battle for no reason, Frankie was evidently concerned about the fate of her friends, the punishments and injuries they'd receive for her actions. "Would you stop worrying? Everything will be okay."

After giving the most current password to the gargoyle and descending the stairs, they peeked into a large door and made sure Dippet was actually gone before they entered the room to search. Not being trouble students and having Professor Dumbledore handle most of their affairs they'd never been inside the headmaster's office before. Although, the headmaster was out, the other headmasters and headmistresses were always in.

"Why have you two come here?"

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Several paintings on the wall were questioning the two who had entered the office and what had brought them there without the summons of the headmaster.

"Stop talking all at once!"

Although, Tom was much younger, he spoke with an authority above his years that made them all be silent, "Alright, I'm not going to bother lying to any of you. We're in need of information, where are the files?"

"I am the files."

The only voice who dared to speak up was a portrait in the furthest left of the circular office, away from and distant from all the others. Tom and Frankie turned to find a painting of a young girl, not too much older than themselves, was sitting in a frame above a set cabinets, which may or have not held the files. She wore a simple navy blue gown and her curly blonde hair was tied tight with a matching blue ribbon. She didn't look like a file keeper, or a file cabinet for that matter, but Tom had paid close noticed to her choice of words. She was the source of information they were looking for, the cabinet below her was just for show.

"What is it you seek?" the girl asked.

"The Heir of Hufflepuff. Who is it?" Tom answered, quickly, getting straight to the point.

"Why should I tell you? I merely asked what brought you were here, like the great headmistresses and headmasters. I have no intention on telling you anything." she replied, in a self-aggrandizing way.

"If you're the files, then look us up. Tom Riddle and Frankie Dickson. You'll realize why you have to tell us and let us leave without word to Headmaster Dippet."

_Frankie Dickson is currently a 2__nd__ year student, in Gryffindor house. Daughter of Elizabeth Broad and Francis Dickson, born February 3__rd__, 1927. Father is descended of Godric Gryffindor, making Frankie Dickson, as well as Diana Dickson (see separate file for more information) also descendants of the Hogwarts founder. Current address, Wool's Orphanage, London, England—the rest of this file has been classified._

"Who—"

_Tom Riddle is a 2__nd__ year student, in Slytherin house. Son of Tom Riddle Sr. and an unknown female, born December 31__st__, 1926. Wizard lineage, unknown (possible Muggleborn). Current address Wool's Orphanage, London, England. File ended._

"Well, you can add Merope Gaunt in the place of mother, now. I think you're smart enough to know about the lineage of the Gaunts," Tom added, slightly haughty himself, playing it off like it would only make his birth mother known. With her name brought the lineage of his wizarding ancestors and his new title rather than 'possible Muggleborn', "I'm the Heir of Slytherin."

"Do you have proof of being a child of the house of Gaunt?" Proof? Tom had never thought about having to prove himself. What proof did he actually have that this was true besides the fact that this woman died on the same day as his mother? It could've just been a big coincidence for all he knew. Tom had just had this gut feeling it wasn't though and that was enough for him. Frankie liked to claim that he has her eyes. In the midst of their research, she often would look back at the Gaunt book and Merope Gaunt, as if trying to find a certain resemblance or reassure him that being a Gaunt really didn't matter to her. She only found the one, considering the rumors he took after his father. Unfortunately, something like that would not be enough. He took a moment to think on something that could prove his lineage. There had to be something, some trait that was passed down from Slytherin himself. Suddenly, the words just seem to fall out, as they often did. He realized something Peter had told him that he and Salazar Slytherin had in common. They both had the ability to talk to snakes.

"_Is this proof enough for you?_"

"Yes…" the girl answered, slowly. Surely, she could not actually speak Parseltongue, or really understand it. But, being an intelligent portrait, she understood what it sounded like well enough and knew it when she heard it. Tom's expression grew a bit smug, at having successfully claimed his lineage to the Slytherin, while Frankie was staring at him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "Very well, as descendants of the Hogwarts founders, I will tell you the name of the person you seek..."

_Currently there are five heirs to the Hufflepuff line inside Hogwarts alone. The one with the closest blood to Helga herself, however, is a student named Jacob Marron._

"Jacob Marron? He's in our year too, isn't he?" Tom added, looking to Frankie for reassurance that he was correct, because he honestly wasn't sure. Most of the people in their year were just faces to him, he didn't really know many of the people from other houses. Frankie nodded, being slightly more indubitable than he was. "This is just too bizarre. The four founders all being here and of the same age."

"Perhaps, this was all somehow destined. Meeting you in the orphanage was not just some coincidence. I mean, what are the odds of two house descendants meeting in the muggle world? And meeting Prue that day in Diagon Alley," Frankie added. "Dumbledore says that everything always happens for a reason. Nothing in this world is accidental. Maybe you and I—"

Suddenly, the door was jiggling open and Professor Dippet walked in, looking weary and distraught. It took him a few moments to notice he was not alone in his office and, considering he was never actually alone in his office, it was completely understandable. He had just sat down at his desk when he noticed Tom and Frankie standing by the portrait of the girl and the mock cabinets.

"What're you two doing in here?" he asked, in a stern tone, that screamed for a good explanation. Or else there'd be trouble.

"Frankie just wanted an update on how the hunt for Zell Gaunt is going before you go on holiday, headmaster," Tom claimed, wrapping his arm over her shoulder like she was a poor wreck that needed comfort. "She was hoping to have her magic back by Christmas. Has there been any sign of him?"

"I'm sorry, my dear. There are many signs of him out there, yet he still alludes our grasp. Hopefully, there will be some better luck after the holidays." Dippet sighed, his stern expression and angry tone fading after giving him a seemingly reasonable explanation. Frankie frowned, mostly for show, considering she knew in her heart they were never actually going to catch him.

"That's too bad Frankie. Well, I guess we should be going then. The headmaster probably is very busy." Tom sighed, as well, already starting to usher her towards the exit like she was so miserable she could not even find the door without his guidance.

"It's nice to see you're treating her so kindly, Mr. Riddle, considering the ruckus I just had to deal with from some of your housemates." Dippet added, obviously taking notice of Tom's unusually pleasant attitude with her.

"Well, she means a great deal to me. I'd do anything in my power to help her..."

Dippet simply smiled, surprisingly suspecting nothing, and waved them out dismissively. Narrowly missing the grave danger of being caught red-handed, they left the office and briskly ran down the stairs back into Gargoyle Corridor.

"What was that hissing Tom? Why did it prove your lineage?" Frankie asked, suddenly in the midst their silent jog to relay the information back to Prue at the rendezvous point.

"It's called Parseltongue, it's the ability to talk to snakes. Everyone in Salazar's line has been a Parselmouth, just like him." Tom explained, with a small sigh. He thought she was going to comment on his statement back in the office, or maybe the fact he was still holding her hand and they were not really in grave danger. But she was dense as usual. Frankie was staring at him differently, as she thought about this new information. "Is it weird?"

"No, you just never told me about it before. It was a bit surprising." she assured him, in a bit of a panic, trying to reiterate that she didn't think him in anyway weird.

"I'm sorry. I honestly wasn't trying to keep it a secret from you, it just never really came up before..." Tom apologized. He needn't apologize, but Tom felt kind of guilty for accidentally keeping such a big part of him from her. She smiled, assuring him that she understood and accepted his apology. A few more moments of small smiles and meaningful looks, before they finally arrived at an unused classroom on the second floor that they had decided to meet Prue in. Prue was sitting on a nearby desk, reading the latest Prophet with little interest other than passing the time.

"About time you two, did you find them?" she asked, immediately, putting down the paper as they entered and walking to meet them.

"Jacob Marron is the one were looking for. We can go about asking more of them, if he refuses." Tom replied.

"I doubt he's going to do that." Prue said, sounding rather confident.

"Why is that?"

"He's Hufflepuff's heir. He's loyal."

"Loyal to who exactly, though? I mean that's just making a giant assumption about his personality." Tom snapped. Prue and Frankie looked shocked by his outburst. It was more than a little out of character to hear Tom Riddle snap about someone making a snap judgement about someone else. However, ever since this whole thing started Tom had gotten to thinking about this whole feud amongst the houses and how toxic it really was. It was never meant to be this way, "I'm starting to feel like there's a lot more to the houses, than we're all thinking there is…"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we obviously weren't all meant to hate each other and be so divided at school. It's just been passed down so many generations for so long, by this point we don't even know what we're fighting about anymore," Tom reiterated. "There are a lot of different sides to people and, if people weren't so deluded by false ideals and pride, they might see that they actually have some things in common with someone else who's supposed to be different."

"Like us…?" Frankie questioned, with a soft smile.

"Like us." Tom answered, with an attempt at the same softness in his smile. Unlike Salazar Slytherin, he was not interested in creating some perfect pureblood utopia and screwing over anyone who got in his way. What actually would've been nice right now was a little bit of peace in this school, to be able to walk down the hall with a Gryffindor and not be practically burned at the stake by his fellow classmates. A world where Frankie had her magic back and they were free to be together without everyone trying to tear them apart for merely being in different houses. No one should have to go through this. Friendship shouldn't have limitations and guidelines on who you can befriend.

"Wow, Tom. Here I thought finding out your lineage would've made you a little power mad. I've never heard you talk this way before," Prue exclaimed. "You're starting to actually think. Congratulations!"

"Shut up. I'm just fed up with stupidity around here," Tom replied, with a frustrated sigh. "Let's just go find Jacob already…"

It would take a very long time to find the Hufflepuff boy, considering the vastness of the castle and the dozens of places he could've been. So, the three waited until after supper, to ambush him on his way out of the Great Hall when he finished eating. Whilst they were all storming after him, suddenly as if looking at him for the first time, Frankie noticed his passing resemblance to Helga. The brash red hair and ocean blue eyes were traits of hers.

"Hi Prue…and Frankie…and Tom. This is kind of an odd combination, what's going on?" he exclaimed, as they all surrounded him.

"Look, I'm not going to insult your intelligence or blatantly lie to you. I'm just going to come right out and ask you. Is it true that you're descended from Helga Hufflepuff?" Tom inquired, bluntly, wasting no time dancing around the truth and just getting straight to the point.

"How did you—?"

"That's not important. Is it true?"

"Yes, alright, fine. It's true, but look I don't want to be treated any differently, ya hear? No autographs, no—"

"We're not hear cause were avid fans! We're here because we have something in common and want—no—_need _your help."

Another lengthy explanation of their predicament later...

"Whoa…that's pretty heavy," Jacob added, once Tom was through telling their tale. It was a lot to take in. However, he seemed to not be turning away, just comprehending it in his mind. "Look, I understand us having to gather to save Frankie's magic and the Gryffindor line, that it's kind of our destiny. But, exactly how do we expect to do all this? We're only second years."

"I understand it sounds nearly impossible—"

"_Very_ impossible, I think you mean, Riddle. Extremely and utterly imposs—"

"Okay, I get it. It's an impossible task," Tom agreed upon, surprisingly not arguing and growing furious with him, "but I believe we can do it. We're not as powerless as we think we are."

"That's all very nice and good, but what about a plan? A real plan." Jacob inquired, sounding skeptical. Tom sighed. They didn't have a 'real' plan. Just find the founders, create the potion and save Frankie's magic. He had to think of something more concrete, if he wanted Jacob to get onboard.

"I'll tell you my real plan, somewhere without these two. Knowing that one for what feels like an eternity, I know she's bound to have some objections." Tom replied, pointing to Frankie as he was referring to her when he had said, 'that one'.

"Eternity? I'd like an explanation of that as well, if you don't mind." Jacob requested, in a curious voice.

"Very well, if you would excuse us ladies..."

They went off in whispers, leaving Frankie and Prue where they stood. They talked for a while, exchanging ideas or thoughts, or at least that's what it looked like from a distance. Frankie couldn't peel her prying eyes away, slightly hurt by the sudden secrecy. Eventually, seeing their conversation was going to take a lot longer than Tom had previously thought, he gave them a signal that they could leave. Prue had to practically yank Frankie's arm off to get her to follow her up the stairs to their towers.

Even once she was confined in her tower, with her doting friends and armful of people pitying her, Frankie's mind did not stray from what possibly Tom and Jacob could be planning to do that she would apparently object to. Having no real distraction, like homework or practice, it consumed her thoughts. Until, there was paper crane weeding its way through her window. She snatched up before it was even all the way through the frame and unfolded it, hastily,

_Dear Frankie,_

_I am terribly sorry for my actions and attitude whilst trying to recruit Jacob Marron for our cause earlier. Please meet me tonight in the furthermost dungeon at 12pm, if you wish to know what the plan is for yourself._

_P.S Bring the Gryffindor girls along with you._

She had to read the bottom again to make sure her eyesight wasn't going bad. Bring the girls with her? Why on earth would he want her to do that? Although she was confused and unsure she told Dylan, Bina, Katy, and Sarah to accompany her to the dungeons later that night. They all tiptoed down the stairs a quarter to midnight, hoping they were silent enough to not wake anyone up. However, descending their own set of stairs in the exact same manor, they soon came face-to-face with the Gryffindor boys of their year. Everyone had to suppress the urge not to scream with shock at the sudden sight of each other.

"What are you lot doing down here?" Aidan asked, after the silent feared moment had past.

"Well, what are _you_ doing down here?" Dylan asked, in retaliation.

"There was this mysterious note on our window sill." Aidan answered, holding up a folded piece of parchment.

"Give me that." Frankie demanded, swiping it from his hand. It couldn't have been…He would never…

_If you wish to save Frankie's magic and be the heroes you so desperately try to be, you will meet me in the furthermost dungeon tonight at midnight._

"What in god's name does he think he's doing?" she shouted, forgetting they were supposed to be practically silent. While they tried to 'shush' her in to silence, Frankie angrily thrust open the door and stormed off alone. The Gryffindors followed after her, but she didn't care about them right now, she needed to get to Tom and have him explain all this. After rushing through corridors, she held her lantern high on the furthermost door in the dungeon, only to find it was already decently well-lit on the inside. Frankie shoved opened the door to find a buzz of people inside, sounding confused and questionable as well. The Hufflepuff, the Ravenclaw and even the Slytherin were what the crowd was composed with. All from the second year class, as well. She searched through the crowd, until she found Tom, Prue and Jacob off to the side, chatting amongst themselves.

"Oh good, you've finally made it—"

"What is going on here, Tom?" she snapped right across his casual greeting.

"I called a meeting." he replied, simply.

"Of who? The entire school!"

"No, just the year."

"This was supposed to be a secret remember. This is even crazier than breaking into the headmaster's office. We can't do something like this. We promised Slughorn that—"

"I don't care what we promised Slughorn. For once, I can't do this alone and I don't think two more people are going to be enough help for this," Tom reasoned. "Besides, I think for once everyone should stop being so selfish, get off their arses, and help someone in need of help. This is good idea. It'll be good for everyone. Trust me."

Frankie simmered. She did not like this, but she trusted him. There was nothing she could do about it now anyway. It wasn't like she objected to possibly uniting the houses, she admired Tom's valiant attempt to do something like that and break the status quo. However, her mother and Slughorn warned them about who to trust. They couldn't possibly bring thirty six other people into this and expect for nothing to go wrong. All it was doing was putting more lives in jeopardy and the movement more at risk of being discovered by the teachers. As the Gryffindors joined the crowd, Tom hopped up onto the rows of old desks that had been occupying the wall, to tower above the crowd. Prue and Jacob followed him up on the makeshift stage, pulling a still tart looking Frankie up along with them.

"What's this all about?" Nero Lawson, Hufflepuff, asked immediately.

"You're probably wondering why we called this meeting, why four completely different people are standing here together and united. Well, it turns out we're destined to lead you. As descendants from the four founders of Hogwarts—"

"What kind of stupid power play is this, Riddle?" Antonius Radford, Ravenclaw, barked angrily, from the hushed murmuring of the crowd.

"If you don't believe us, Radford, by all means look it up. It'll take someone of your intelligence months and, by the time it's over, you'll want to scoop your eyeballs out with an ice cream scooper," Tom sneered. The crowd murmured and, realizing it was probably not the best to act so much like his true self if he really wanted their help, he took a deep breath and put on a charming, persuasive face, "If I meant to overthrow our year why would I align myself with others? Honestly, this is not about me. It's about her."

He pointed at Frankie and all eyes soon became fixed upon her. Although, they all wanted to question the sudden relationship between the two, it brought a dead unnatural silence. Tom Riddle, who was famous for his cold malicious manor was saying they were all here for Frankie Dickson, who was famous only because she was currently a non-magical being and she was still being allowed to attend their prestigious institution. They were two completely different people.

"Tom is right. We've been cruel to one of our own when we should be uniting together to help her get her magic back." Prue exclaimed, rushing to Frankie's side and putting her hand supportively on her shoulder.

"What's with you Tom? Why do you care about what happens to her all of a sudden?" Lestrange inquired, being the first to speak up. Even though the Slytherin boys considered him a friend, half of them didn't know anything of Tom's connection to the Gryffindor girl and were under the impression that he loathed her with all his heart. Of course, he and Avery were more shocked than most by Tom's gesture of kindness toward the girl.

"The truth is…" It was quite a thing, a truthful confession. Especially with such a platform and a crowd of his peers standing before him. Tom was tongue-tied for a moment. His relationship with Frankie was one of his biggest secrets at school and suddenly blurting it out, when truth-telling was already not his forte, was naturally a difficult thing for him to do. However, he bit his tongue and moved forward, "I met Frankie Dickson around four years ago and we still live together in a London orphanage, granted it hasn't been bombed by the Germans by now. I haven't lived the privileged life of knowing what the hell my powers are. Most of my life, I thought I was a monster. A freak of nature, until Frankie showed up. She saved me."

No one said anything, so he decided to just continue talking.

"She's kind, bright and clever, and see no reason to toss her or our friendship aside because our ties are two different colors." Tom added, slightly looking back at her to give him the courage to keep on talking. She had stopped simmering in anger to listen to him. The crowd went into a buzz again, chatting about this development. "Honestly, people, we don't need to be excluded to our own house and blindly hate the others just because we're deluded into believing that is how it works around here."

"You're being hypocritical, Riddle! You hate every one of us without reason." Magnus Warren, Hufflepuff, rationalized. Tom couldn't deny he had a point.

"That's just who I am and, trust me, you don't want to be like me. I'm an angry person. It does not take much to make me hate you and I can assure you it's not because you're in a different house then I am." Tom replied, simply.

"Even if you hate me, I'm with you. Hufflepuffs, our house is all about loyalty. Are we really going to turn our backs at someone who is bearing their soul and asking for our help?" Jacob exclaimed, throwing one of his arms around Tom like they were already quite good friends rather than had just begun talking a few hours prior. Prue rushed to his other side and grabbed his arm. Normally, these sort of affections would have bothered him, but it was proof of their true unity and right now he needed everyone to believe in that.

"I'd rather you not hate me, but I also am with you. Ravenclaws, I highly suggest you do the same." Prue smiled, yet looked at her fellow housemates with an authoritative glance. Tom looked back at Frankie, who was still standing silently behind them with her arms crossed, waiting for her answer.

"I'm with you. Always." she replied, finally growing less bitter and smiling a bit at his words.

"How can we help?"

"What was that?" Tom questioned, hearing whoever had said it quite clearly, yet still beckoned for a reprisal of the statement.

"We want to help Frankie." A few people in the crowd had spoken up with similar statements. They were actually reacting positively to what could've been a social nightmare.

"I'm in it for what promises to be an awesome, mystery adventure!"

"Who exactly is with us in this?" Prue asked, raising her hand to demonstrate for anyone who was willing to help for their cause to do the same. Everyone's hands were raised, even those who seemed the most resistant. Even Leri, eventually, despite thinking of Frankie as her sworn enemy.

"It looks like everyone's on board."

"So, what's the plan?"

"Well, for right now, we need information on the castle. Secret rooms, passageways that disappear and reappear, anything odd you've encountered since you've been here." Tom explained.

"If you're looking for secret rooms related to Ravenclaw, I think I know where you should start looking," Madeline Myrtle piped up, immediately. Normally, Madeline was a quiet girl not really one to be the center of attention. Most were appalled by her sudden voice, however, now seemed like the time and place to do or say something courageous and out of character, "Technically, it's not only accessible by someone of the bloodline, but it was created by Rowena Ravenclaw and is considered one of the secrets of the castle. The Room of Requirement."

"Sounds intriguing." Tom remarked. It didn't sound exactly the sort of place Rowena Ravenclaw might hide something, considering practically anyone could get to it. However, it seemed like a decent enough place to start.

"I've read about it. The Room of Requirement is a room that only appears when a person has great need of it and is equipped with what the individual needs at the time." Prue added.

"Has anyone come across a room like this before?" Tom asked the crowd.

"I haven't, but I think my uncle has. He told me about it before in one of his old school days stories." Rosalind Tidwell, Hufflepuff, replied, pushing herself forward to the front of the group so she could actually be seen.

"Do you remember anything about a location?"

"No, but I can ask over the holiday."

"Then, we'll reconvene after winter break. The rest of you gather any information you can, as well. We'll need every little bit of it we can get," Tom reported. "If we're successful in finding the room, we will make it our new meeting spot for all future meetups. This must all remain a secret, is that understood? Tell no one."

The crowd began to disperse, trying to be as quiet as they shuffled their way out of the dungeon. Jacob, Prue, Tom and Frankie were all hopping off the desks, when they noticed someone had stayed behind. Leri stood awkwardly before them, perhaps wanting to confess, or maybe wanting to yell about how stupid this all was.

"Let me see the list of ingredients. There has to be other things we'll need that are going to be hard to find." Leri remarked.

"You really want to help? I thought you were just peer pressured into raising your hand because you didn't want to look like an evil bitch." Tom scoffed, cruelly.

"Can I speak to Frankie alone for a moment?" Leri inquired to Tom, yet already grabbing onto Frankie in a clingy sort of way, like she used to when she was still pretending to be her friend.

"No! Of course you can't—"

"It's fine with me, Tom. I shall speak with her alone." Frankie replied, not about to let either of them continue on making decisions without her, like she knew they would. She didn't know Leri to well as a person, but she knew that she and Tom had very similar argumentative demeanors. Frankie took up Leri's arm as well and they both retreated to the far wall to talk in hushed whispers. Although, it probably would've been better to speak at a farther distance, any further and Tom was more likely to follow behind them.

"Look, do you want to know something about me?" Leri started, hinting that she was about to spill something secretive. Frankie nodded, vigorously. She didn't know anything about who Leri was and what went on in that mind of hers. Considering all the hell she had put Tom and her through in the previous school year, Frankie was dying to know, "The truth about me is— well, my mother told me before I left for school that I'd most likely be marrying one of the boys in my house. My options were pretty much the four boys I grew up with, unless the fifth wasn't someone even more powerful. I was pretty much bound to marry Abraxas, if Tom hadn't shown up—"

"Does this story have a point?" Frankie interrupted, slightly channeling Tom's hostile anger from the other side of the room. This story was stalling and for some odd reason made her angry.

"I only chose to be in love with Tom because he's attractive and, even though he was a nobody up until about five minutes ago, he's always given off an air of having authority and power. In my mother's standards, he's the prime choice. I don't really have a pure honest reason for liking him, like you do, and, speaking quite frankly, I've never really liked him at all. He's unbelievable prat—" Frankie was glaring, obviously angered about her calling her best friend a prat and perhaps a few other things, like locking her in a dungeon and a series of other harmful pranks for a guy she didn't even have real feelings for. So, Leri stopped herself from going into a rant about what she really thought about Tom and switched gears. "Maybe, hypothetically, I've always found a boy in another house objectively attractive and I kind of want a world where it's okay for me to like him. Do you think this whole uniting of the houses and quest to get your magic back will help make that happen?"

"What? Who exactly am I talking to right now?" Frankie questioned, obviously extremely confused. Leri doesn't like Tom and she fancies someone in another house. Has the world turned upside down?

"I didn't realize you'd gotten over me so quickly, Leri."

Tom was sneering, closer behind them than he had originally had gone. He had been silently prowling closer to them to listen in on their conversation, naturally. It was a good skill he had picked up at the orphanage, to see when the others were talking ill of him and he needed to curse them.

"Eavesdropping, Tom. Really?"

"I thought a private conversation with Frankie when she's magic-less might not be the best idea. I didn't realize you were going to be so honest with her," Tom replied, trying to sound innocent to his misbehavior. Although, he could not hide a significant smirk at the juicy bit of information he had just overheard. "Who's the lad then, Leri? You can tell me—"

"I don't have to explain myself to you. Just copy the list for me and I'll see what the Black family vault has to offer." Leri replied in a huff, turning away from them to leave. However, Tom stopped her, grabbing her right wrist as she tried to pass by.

"I admire a girl who speaks from the heart."

"I'm doing it for myself. I don't care about either of you," Leri snapped, yanking her arm from Tom's grasp. "I just want things to be different. I want him to look at me and not only see the color of my tie—"

"You might also want to work on your personality a bit." Tom smirked, out of a tormentor's habit. He didn't know how to be supportive towards other people quite yet, he was still learning. "Right, sorry. Baby steps. I'll make a copy and give it to you later."

"Thank you."

She left without Tom, despite them going to the same place. She already knew that he had a pit stop to make dropping off his Gryffindor and, considering hers had left with the crowd, she had no reason or desire to journey up to the seventh floor with them.

"Did that just happen?"

"I think it just did. I told you this was a fantastic idea!" Tom exclaimed, clearly a little bit more on the happier side, for once. He had Leri off his back, he no longer needed to hide his feelings anymore, and he had an army to help him get her magic back. This was definitely never something he imagine on doing, or happening, but it was simply exhilarating. He felt like picking her up, spinning her around, and falling into a kiss, just like in some bad romance film Mrs. Cole would drag them off to see at the cinema some weekends. Feeling alive and being alone with her, it was a dangerous moment that he would give into his emotions. However, she spoke before he could act.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"Me?"

"I wasn't the one who got our entire year to agree to work together. I know I was acting upset before, but I'm truly impressed." Frankie stated, leaning in closer to him. Tom was curious for a moment, as to why she was so close, until she pressed her lips upon his pale white cheek. His cheek buzzed upon contact and his hand wandered over it, when her lips retreated. However, Tom stayed silent in fear of speaking gibberish when he opened his mouth. She did not apologize for what possibly could've been an unwanted advance, or sputter nervously like she would've it he did the same exact thing to her. She looked back as she confidently strode towards the door, with a sly smile he had never seen before.

"The Fat Lady will be angry if you walk me up again. I'll see you in the morning, though."


	5. Chapter 5

Bonus Story 5

A Few Impossible Tasks (Year 2, Part 4)

Although, there are times working in a team can be a daunting experience filled with difficulties and disagreements, they are also highly useful for completing more challenging tasks. With everyone working together, you would think that an ill-tempered boy would be a very bad cog to have in a team dynamic, let alone be one of the leaders leading it. However, Tom had been enduring it so far and currently finding it a very refreshing change from doing everything on his own. Usually, he did not care for people talking to him in such a personal, social matter. Ever since he found out he had magic, his true personality seemed to be shaped. He had grown into a very pessimistic and unfriendly person partly because of his powers and partly because of _them_. Before his magic had isolated him from the rest of the world, he actually got along decently well with the other boys at the orphanage. They played ball and other games they could make up in their minds, pulled childish pranks together, that did not cause childhood trauma and send kids to the hospital. But when they found out he was different, naturally, they rejected him, turned him into an outcast. Nowadays, as a result, Tom found all other people were idiotic and their conversations are usually things he did not care about, whether they were magical or muggle.

Despite it being against Tom's usual character, with a common goal binding him with the others in his year, he found that most of his fellow students were a lot smarter than they appeared and each had their own perks. The kids who stayed behind with him and Frankie on vacation were currently spending a good portion of the spare time they had been given to plunge themselves into the unknown regions of the castle and try to get leads on the hiding places. They spent all of their meals huddled together, talking in hushed whispers, at whatever table had the least amount of people at it. Best of all, Tom could finally walk down the hallway with Frankie, not having to worry about being seen with her.

For now, the world was quiet here.

Tom woke in the silent, empty Slytherin boy's dorm a little later than usual. Peter had probably already gone down to breakfast, while the rest had gone back home for the holidays. It took him a mental second to realize the date and another to realize what it meant to him. Today was New Year's Eve, also his 13th birthday and a Sunday. He didn't really particularly care for this day. It was the day his mother died, leaving him in this world alone. However, being at such a calm, slightly happy point in his life, he found himself at the least not enraged. The only one who would really care and make a fuss about it would be Frankie, especially considering how much she screwed up last year and the fact today was also their day. Sunday.

He was about to start dressing, so he could join everyone at what was left of breakfast, when suddenly there was a tap at the window. Thinking it was just a crane from Frankie, Tom immediately opened the latch and let the cold winter air blasting through. He was blinded by snowy wind to see that a large barn owl had swooped in and perched itself on one of Tom's bed posts. Tom recoiled a little, not expecting the creature, before composing himself and taking the letter from its beak. Tom sat on his bed, looking at who the sender was, before cleaving it open,

_Dear Tom,_

_If you aren't so bitter to rip this letter to shreds the second you've seen it's from me and are actually reading it, I wanted to notify you that I've got everything except those four special ingredients from the vault. You owe me big time. Also, have a merry Christmas, birthday, and New Year, I suppose. The other boys are standing behind me, strongly urging me to tell you they send their greetings, as well._

_-Leri Black._

He never thought he'd be smiling down at a letter from Leri Black. It was excellent news and meant their battle was halfway over. Meanwhile, the useless adults were not even close to finding Zell Gaunt. Dumbledore and Slughorn had gone off to join the Aurors in their hunt, however, even with their added smarts and strength, Tom knew it would be to no avail. They still wouldn't be able to catch him. Tom had only seen his relative for a brief moment when they went to go retrieve Frankie and he didn't look deadly, but if the man was anything like he was there was a slim chance they would be able to track him. Tom quickly stowed the letter away and continued on getting ready to go downstairs. He had to tell her immediately, that at least they were making progress.

All the second years that had stayed behind for winter holiday were huddled around Frankie at Gryffindor table this morning, when Tom arrived in the Great Hall. Since the formation of their little club, everyone was being a lot nicer to her. Not in the pitying sense that most had been before, but actually trying to get to know her as a person who was more than her magic.

"Might I borrow you for a moment?" Tom asked, as he tapped her shoulder.

"Of course," Frankie remarked, starting to get up from the bench. She excused herself from the chattering group and hopped over the bench to begin following Tom out. They walked out of the hall together in silence, until they were outside of the castle. "Is there anything wrong, Tom?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you I just received a letter from Leri and she got most of the ingredients from the Black family vault." he reported, dutifully, like some kind of soldier.

"You couldn't share this information with the troops?" she questioned, playing along with the army-like manor he was speaking in. For a brief moment, she suddenly became worried about Arthur Giry. It happened from time-to-time since their parting of ways. Had he been drafted in the war early because of his circumstances, or was he on the run with the mad wizard who became their guardian? He was probably just dead. She soon snapped out of it. No need to ever worry about that boy now that she was back at school.

"I could've, and I will, I just wanted you to be the first one to know." Tom remarked. He thought she'd be more ecstatic about the news. Even he had gotten excited about it. Although, Tom had noticed it was getting harder for Frankie to get excited about anything nowadays. She remained generally happy, still had her normal smile, kind attitude and all that goodness that made up her personality. However, despite all their efforts and triumphs, Frankie missed not having her magic. It was an important part of her and it was gone. Sometimes he caught her trying to create little sparks in her hand, like she did when they were younger. It was slowly eating at her and soon it would make her suffer.

Frankie just smiled at him and sat down in her normal spot in the grass. They arrived at the tree, unbeknownst to them, and had already started their Sunday walk. He sat down beside her, "How is everyone getting along, then? It seemed like everyone was doing fine this morning."

"Relax, Tom. You've really started change and opening people's eyes. I don't think they're really going to want to go back to blindly hating each other again overnight." Frankie replied, knowing exactly what he was hinting at.

"Well, what if I'm wrong?" he questioned. For all he knew, this was a terrible idea that would cause some mass stir in their year and destroy everything.

"When are you ever wrong?" she asked, in retaliation, for-a-matter-of-fact. She flashed that new sly coy smile she'd recently started showing and he half smiled back at her. Tom was about to snap out of it and start another conversation topic, but suddenly they heard someone was yelling at them from up the path. They turned away from each other to see Jacob Marron speed walking towards the tree, waving madly, as if he still needed to capture their attention.

"Frankie! You wanted me to teach you that new spell today, didn't you?" Jacob exclaimed, once he was close enough for them to hear him better.

"Oh, yes. Excuse me, Tom. I'll see you later." Frankie remarked, quickly excusing herself as fast as she had when she left the group at breakfast only minutes ago.

Tom watched as the two walked away briskly in highly suspicious hushed whispers, thoroughly confused. That was their Sunday walk. It was short, bleak affair, with no mention of his birthday whatsoever. Normally, he wouldn't care. In fact, he probably shouldn't care, considering he hadn't been doing so for the past twelve years of his life. However, he knew that Frankie cared. She was the only one who had ever cared about this horrible day and now that they could finally spend it together in the public's eye she was leaving him. While Tom sat feeling foolish and simmering in a slightly spiteful anger, he didn't realize the girl with no magic was playing him.

"I can't believe you need me to teach you how to bake. You're the girl, aren't you?" Jacob laughed, as they walked up the hill back to the castle together. Teaching her a new spell was a lie, obviously, but surprisingly it had fooled Tom Riddle.

"Well, my mother never really got around to teaching me about cooking and you're the one whose mother is a magical pâtissière." Frankie argued. Of course, she remembered. How could he ever forget such an important day? The reason she had actually left their Sunday walk early was because she was planning something extra special to make up for last year's disaster. Jacob was going to teach her how to make the perfect birthday cake and they were going to throw Tom a proper birthday party. Even after all his bad birthdays, she was still as determined as ever to make him like this day, appreciate his birth even just a little.

"Does Riddle even like sweets?" Jacob questioned, curiously.

"Not exactly. I mean he doesn't dislike them, but he doesn't exactly like them either." Frankie tried to explain. Tom was too complicated of a person to try to explain to anyone who didn't know him well. They soon arrived at the kitchen with their mission. The two stepped through hole hidden behind the giant portrait of a fruit bowl and started to make themselves at home. Technically students were allowed to use the kitchen whenever they wished, however, most of them weren't very comfortable with the house elves. Some because they were brought up in high society and found them to be vermin, others just found them a bit creepy. The elves bowed to them and, being kind people, they gave them a bow and a curtsy back.

"Right, you may be lost, but you're lucky I know exactly what to do," Jacob added, immediately beginning to take things out of various cabinets. Frankie got the sense he came here a lot and was already familiar with the place. "You're right about him not particularly caring for sweets. Tom doesn't have much a sweet tooth, but still eats sweet things in moderation. On Halloween, I notice he usually settles for a chocolate wand and a few lumps of Crystallised Pineapple. Obviously, I'd suggest a chocolate and pineapple cake, but there is no way that the kitchen has pineapples in the middle of winter. Instead I think we should go for chocolate and lemon, which he should like. I often see him put lemon in his tea—"

Frankie was staring at Jacob oddly, while he ranted on about things even she didn't know about Tom, and he stopped talking, noticing her intent bewildered gaze.

"Should I not know those kinds of things? Yeah, probably not…"

"How long have you been observing Tom like that?" she questioned.

"Well, it's not just him. It's with everyone. It's part of being a patisserie or a chef, I guess. You have to think about the people you're making food for. So, I make useless little observations about everyone." Jacob reasoned. "For example, you like hot chocolate in the morning, instead of tea or coffee."

"That's kind of creepy, but interesting."

"Enough about my strange habits," Jacob added, obviously not wanting to talk more on a rather embarrassing convention of his. "Come on, let's hurry it up a little. Since you don't have your magic, we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way and we've got to start now if we're going to make it in time for the surprise party."

Frankie nodded in agreement and they started to get to work.

Baking a cake is something that can be rather simple or rather hard, depending on the type of person you are and the source of your instructions. For example, Frankie was under the assumption, if she had lived a normal childhood where her mother had not died, she would've taught her how to make Tom Riddle the perfect cake. However, she was woefully unaware her mother was an atrocious baker and burned everything to a crisp. Frankie was grateful to have Jacob as her teacher. Although, despite not knowing how bad she was, it was an experience she would've like to have with her mother regardless.

"So, you observe everyone right?" Frankie questioned, getting back to their previous conversation topic, in the silence that had grown since they put the cake in the oven.

"Yes, as I said before." Jacob stated, sounding a little irritated to be back on the subject again when he just wanted to forget ever mentioning it.

"What have you observed about Leri Black, other than some food habits, or lack of food habits?" she inquired. Frankie might've been a bit too harsh, channeling some of Tom's hostility, but after everything Leri put her through last year all she wanted to do was to understand this girl.

"Why do you want to know about her?"

"Leri told me that she likes someone in a different house and I want to know if she was telling the truth." Frankie admitted.

"Well, it's not too much of a surprise. Almost everyone does," he laughed, at Frankie's cluelessness. Growing up in the muggle world and refusing to be separated from Tom since day one, she was never really raised on the ideals a lot of Hogwarts students were often raised on. "Most people have a person in a different house that they think, 'if things were different, we could be friends.' However, won't try to talk to them because of the stigma that we're not to socialize out of our own houses."

"Even you?"

"No one romantically, but I've always wanted to make friends with you, Tom and Prue. It might've been a descendant thing, but you three always stood out amongst the crowd to me."

"Once this is all over, you don't think we'll all go back to that do you?" she asked, sounding a little worried, just like Tom had earlier. What if this didn't last? What if she got her powers back and everything just went back to business as usual?

"I hope not. I've never had so much fun at school. I mean none of my other friends have ever asked to bake with me before. They think it's too girly." he smiled. She returned the smile and continued her silent mixing of the frosting. Meanwhile, Jacob looked around curiously at the empty room. Something was not right, "This might just be me being overconfident in my observation skills, but where did all the house-elves go?"

"Out? They don't have as much work to do on winter holiday, so they must've left."

"But we closed the portrait hole and I haven't heard any Disapparating."

"We've been talking. You probably just didn't hear them leave."

"Where would they even go in the first place?"

"I assume they have quarters to sleep in. Right?"

"How should I know? Probably not. Usually it's not customary to give your house elf room and board."

"That sounds cruel. I would assume Hogwarts would have better standards then that—"Frankie stopped her impending rant, noticing Jacob wasn't listening, but fiddling around by the fire place. She sighed and set down her bowl of frosting, "What are you doing?"

"Observing. Look at all these different symbols on the fireplace," Jacob added, gesturing for her to come over and look at them. However, she stayed put believing it was nothing. Frankie had turned back to the frosting, but Jacob was reading the symbols he could not possibly understand, "I think I've got it."

By the time Frankie had glanced behind her to see what he was in such a ruckus about, Jacob had vanished too.

"Jacob?"

"I'm here in the fireplace." his voice replied. She put down her bowl of frosting and rushed to the fireplace to check his claim. Sure enough, there behind the flames, where there would normally be a stone wall, was Jacob and an unknown corridor leading who knows where.

"Jacob! How on earth did you get back there?"

"I just walked through."

"You walked through burning flames without getting caught on fire."

"Apparently. Now, come on. I think this might have to do with the conspiracy and the secrets." he grinned, extending his arm out to her through the flames.

"Um—that's probably not it. It's probably just house elf quarters." she stated, stepping slightly back from his strangely not burning arm.

"What's the matter?" Jacob questioned, curious as to why she wasn't hopping through without trouble. She could clearly see it was not burning him. There was literally no threat and she was a Gryffindor. Magic or not, she was supposed to be brave and courageous. However, he looked into her eyes and saw she was focused at the flames, not him. "Are you afraid of fire?"

"I've never really thought about it before…" Frankie replied, softly, with a vagueness even she could not explain. Logically thinking, you know when something frightens you, but she didn't know why she was scared. Even though she was at a reasonable distance, the fire seemed to burst out at her and make her head feel dizzy. Suddenly, in a flash, it did indeed burst out at her. The flames were being guided out of the fireplace in an endless wave and surrounded her in a burning sea. It was hard to tell, but Frankie didn't even think she was in the Hogwarts kitchen anymore. She could hear crying, herself crying, but it wasn't coming out of her. Frankie crouched into a ball on the ground to try and get it all to stop, as if that was going to save her from whatever this was.

"Frankie! What's wrong?"

She could hear Jacob's voice still coming from the fireplace, but the flames inside it had risen too high to see if he was actually there or not.

"I don't know what happening. The room is on fire and it's all my fault. Help me!" She was hyperventilating in panic and she still didn't know why. It scared her more than just not knowing what it was and why it was happening to her. It scared her because she couldn't remember why something like this was so familiar and terrifying to her. She'd experience this all before…

"It's just an illusion. Step through the fireplace and I'm sure it'll all go away," Jacob yelled. She looked up from her tightly wound ball to find an arm, his arm, coming out of the fire again, not burning. "Trust me."

In a flicker of courage amongst her terror, Frankie grabbed Jacob's hand and he yanked her up and through the fireplace. The illusions vanished and the kitchen returned to normal. She had joined Jacob in the room beyond the fireplace.

"It worked…"

"I don't know what you were seeing, but it looked pretty intense," Jacob added, sounding concerned, but not knowing Frankie well enough to feel he deserved the right to be comforting her. It was yet another well-kept secret, out of many, but even the best Gryffindors have their fears. Being able to overcome those fears is what made them brave. Frankie's fear of fire was a secret she even kept from herself and she knew if she were to figure out how to completely open the lock on her fears she would fall apart. Just like she had back there. "You said it was your fault? What was your fault?"

"I don't know…"Frankie answered, once again not trying to be vague, just not knowing herself. "How did you know to walk behind the fire without having to go through all that?"

"The words on the mantle was a bunch of gibberish symbols, then I looked at it closer and it was suddenly in English." he explained. "It said, '_There in the flames you must look behind_.'"

"Sounds like a good castle mystery to me," Frankie added, trying to compose herself and forge ahead after her slight mental breakdown. "Tom has the journal and I'm not willing to go through that again just to go get him, so we're just going to have to do this on our own."

"Sounds like fun…"

While Jacob and Frankie were off 'practicing a spell', Tom was wandering around listlessly with nothing better to do. He was still in a salty mood from what he now to lately realized was a poor excuse for a lie, but didn't feel like going back to his dorm to sulk about it. Tom would've just stayed at the tree, but it had begun to snow again and without Frankie the blistering cold got to him too much to stay there. Eventually, he situated himself on the steps of the stairs, reaching the peak of boredom at last. Suddenly, answering his prayers for something to do, came Rosalind Tidwell. She was suddenly racing up to Tom, red faced from the cold of outside and in some sort of buzz of excitement.

"I've got it! I've got it! My uncle told me where the Room of Requirement is, so I came back on the early train! Quickly—"

"Slow down, Rosalind," Tom ordered, grabbing her by the shoulders, so she would be still for a moment and listen to the rest of his demands, "Gather everyone you can find who isn't on holiday and meet me back here in thirty minutes."

Rosalind nodded and sped off towards the path outside, where there were probably a few others who had decided on taking the early train. Meanwhile, Tom raced off in the other direction. He told others he saw along the way, but he was mostly just searching for Frankie. He tried everywhere he could think of. The library, the dungeons, he even asked the Fat Lady if she had come up there. Unfortunately, they were all dead ends.

_Where the hell is she?_

A little pass thirty minutes later, Tom ended back in front of the stairs with the rest of the second years that had gathered.

"Ah, Tom! There you are. Where did you run off to?" Rosalind asked, noticing his arrival.

"Nowhere. Come on, let's go find the Room of Requirement." Tom replied, successfully acting like some fearless leader. When in reality, he was disappointed in the girl who had left him behind.

He and Rosalind led the group as they made their way to the place where the room was rumored to be hidden. They stopped at a round-about corridor on the second half of the seventh corridor that never really was used for anything much, like most corridors, considering there were only about twenty eight subjects at Hogwarts and the school was literally a medieval castle. They wandered, opening doors, looking closely at possibly suspicious empty portraits. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be working.

"Are you sure he meant this corridor?" Prue asked, after they all regrouped again.

"Yes, he definitely said it was this one." Rosalind answered.

"Did he say anything else? What was he doing exactly?" Tom questioned.

"He was wandering around this corridor, trying to find a classroom to hide this bad book he'd found, but none of the rooms up here would open. He was pacing around the left side, when suddenly a door just appeared." Rosalind explained.

"So, he was right about where we are, he just thought about it and it happened."

"It makes sense. Why don't you try it, Tom? Everyone else stand back." Prue exclaimed, obviously coming up with a plan she wasn't too keen on explaining yet. Regardless, the group stepped back into the shadows, leaving Tom with the sufficient space he was more used to, while he stood there a little baffled.

"You're the descendent, why aren't you trying?"

"Because your will is stronger than mine and the room is said to appear only when a person has great need of it," Prue remarked, "Now, think of why you need the Room of Requirement."

Tom sighed, closed his eyes and thought of why he so desperately needed to get into the room. Although, it wasn't really that hard to think of a reason why.

_I need to save Frankie. I need to save Frankie. I need to save Frankie._

He reopened his eyes to find he was standing in front of a door that had obviously not been there when he'd closed them.

"It worked!" Tom exclaimed, rushing to open the door at once. However, Prue stopped him from opening it just yet.

"We should still be careful, though. Rowena's probably got some more tricks up her sleeve." Prue added.

"How hard do you think it's going to be to find raven's wings in a little room?" Tom replied. Considering the size of the corridor, the room wouldn't be so large. Considering the groups combined intellect and magical ability, it'd be rather easy from this point on. However, when Tom opened the door to sky high ceiling and a sea of junk, he soon realized how wrong he was and how much harder this was actually going to be. Tom stared blankly at the piles, "I've foolishly underestimated her…"

"I think we all have," Prue stated, looking pretty amazed by the sights, as well as everyone else. "Come on everyone. Split up with a buddy and start looking..."

Meanwhile, Frankie and Jacob were still wandering the catacombs of the kitchen, looking for a suspicious sign.

"So, which of the ingredients do you think is hiding down here? Because I am not confident we can fight off a Basilisk, or more likely you can fight off a Basilisk. I'm probably just take one look and die instantly." Frankie stated, for a matter-of-fact. Of the four ingredients listed in her mother's journal that was the one that seemed the most improbable and dangerous to obtain. Frankie had decided on research a little more on the ancient monster. Not only was the venom of the Basilisk fatal, but looking into the eyes could kill you instantly.

"God, Tom was right. You are so morbid without your magic," Jacob replied, looking at her questionably. "Apart from the fact I don't think a 50 foot snake could even survive in the school for that long, I'm pretty sure this is my founders test."

"How do you figure that?" Frankie asked.

"Well, it's in the kitchen and getting here involved you trusting me and trusting yourself, which is what Helga would've wanted. Trust and courage are actually a big part of being a Hufflepuff."

"It still could've been my founder. It required for me to be brave when I was scared and powerless."

"We could go on about this forever, but we're going to be going around in circles for hours because all-in-all Riddle is right and the houses are the same. Just trust me on this." Jacob argued. Frankie was about to argue back, but he suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Hang on, can't you hear that?"

"No—"

"This way!"

Jacob ran off leaving Frankie no choice but to follow him. This place was like a labyrinth, filled with turn after turn. Thankfully, she was able to keep She didn't know how deep in the school they were by now, or how they planned on getting back out again, but the last thing she wanted was to get stuck down there. However, with this sudden outburst, she realized Jacob was ultimately right. This was is founder's secret and he had some sort of weird connection to this place that she didn't. He'd been leading them this whole time, seemingly already knowing where to go.

He stopped in a grand large room with stone steps to an empty pedestal rising in the middle. Whatever had been there, be it badger claws or otherwise, was probably long gone. Yet, Jacob was still staring at the pedestal, seemingly perplexed.

"There's nothing here." Frankie remarked, obviously not seeing what Jacob was so caught on. She sighed a little, looking up at the empty pedestal and thinking of if her mother, or some other Hogwarts student, took all the treasure that had once sat upon it already.

"To you maybe. It's my turn to be tested." Jacob added. Frankie gasped and tried to look closer. However, just like with her illusion, Jacob was the only one who would be able to look upon the scene and see something more.

"What do you see?"

"A waterfall of blood washing over that pedestal. Inside it, a glowing yellow bag hanging off a hook."

"Bloody badger claws!"

"It just had to be blood…" Jacob sighed, looking rather sickly at what was probably a very gruesome sight. Obviously this was a fear of his, but Frankie wasn't so impertinent to ask for the reason why. If she even knew why she was afraid a fire, she wouldn't want to talk about it either. It was clearly something she'd rather forget.

"Remember with the fire, it's just an illusion." Frankie reasoned, in a desperate attempt to make him feel better and repeat the advice he gave her.

"Doesn't mean I won't feel it. You could still feel the heat of that fire. Look at your hands," he scoffed back at her. Frankie looked at her hands, as he commanded, and noticed the backs were still all red, "You got burned."

"It could've happened while we were baking—"

"You know that's not true."

"We'll do this together!" Frankie exclaimed, confidently, taking up his hand and pulling them forward. It was Jacob turn to put his faith in her, "Trust me."

He took a deep breath and allowed her to pull them forward. With their conjoined hands, they plunged them both into the middle of the seemingly empty pedestal. Suddenly, the waterfall hit and Frankie's mind was opened to the illusion, or the illusion became reality. She could finally see a red fall came flowing out of the ceiling. The pressure downwards and the splatter as they disturbed it was trying to force her to let go of Jacob. However, she kept her grasp around his wrist while he unhooked the bag. Both of them were arm deep into the flow, until the second it was in his hand, and then Jacob quickly pulled them both out. Unfortunately, to much of Jacob's discomfort, like the burns, the blood of only god knows what was splattered all over them and drenched over their arms.

"Okay, I'm officially disgusted. Check the bag and let's get back to the kitchen, so I can wash this off." Jacob stated, quickly and squeamishly. Frankie untied the bag and, sure enough, there sat a bunch of strangely fresh looking badger claws.

"We've got them! We did it."

"Congratulations. Now, I'm going to have nightmares for a week and, most likely, you will too, but hey. At least if the cake is a disaster, you've got the perfect birthday surprise for Tom."

"Oh god, the cake!" Frankie gasped, as the sudden realization hit that they had left the cake in the oven when they decided to go on this adventure.

As Jacob and Frankie were busy racing back to the kitchen to desperately save a cake, Tom's adventure into the Room of Requirement felt like it had only just begun. However, it also felt like he had been in there for hours, searching aimlessly through the piles of junk.

"Any sign of them?" Prue asked, rounding yet another pile to meet him again.

"Not yet." Tom replied.

"Tom, I feel we must cut our losses for today and return when we have everyone to search."

"We just need to think harder. There's got to be some way to find them," he sighed, growing a little more aggravated. It was a mixture of things that were making him angry. Tom was not yet clever enough to rival the likes of Rowena Ravenclaw, he was barely even smart enough to keep up with Elizabeth's journal. It was their secrets aggravated him so. They taunted him. Not to mention a girl with no magic somehow able to give him the slip and keep herself hidden. He didn't know why he liked clever women, they were so much trouble.

Tom took a deep breath, so he wouldn't end up exploding at Prue, and continued on, "So, the Ravenclaw family is known for their worship of the bird. Obviously, carrying on with that tradition, Rowena had some of them for pets—"

"No, that can't be right. True, the house was just named from her sir name, like all the others, and the family did have an obsession. However, Rowena didn't even like ravens. She considered them to be an ill-omen. Hardly anyone notices, but our house crest is actually an—" She stopped as the realization hit her, "—eagle."

"Back that way?" Tom inquired, vaguely remembering passing a taxidermy eagle a few rows back. It figured not only would Rowena make her room accessible to anyone, but leave her secrets hidden in plain sight. They both ran back until they found a taxidermy eagle, sitting proud on an old chair, despite looking like another useless item among the piles of stuff. There must've been more than one eagle because this one seemed to still have both his wings. Not being the slightest bit grossed by taxidermy and with a goal more important, Tom tore his wing from his body.

"We've got it. Let's go now." Tom yelled, so the rest of the group could hear him and stop the search. No one answered. "Where is everybody?"

"They already left a while ago." Prue admitted. He gave her a sour glare for not telling him this information sooner and for letting everyone just leave like that, "Oh, don't give me that look. We've been here for a long time you know and some people want to enjoy the last day of the year."

"Not me. The last day of the year is always the worst…"

They headed towards the exit with their taxidermy eagle wing and the door faded behind them as the left. Prue was supposed to separate from him at the stairs, however, she continued to follow him. Tom didn't address her lingering presence and just continued to walk on to his common room, to spend the rest of this day in solitude. She wouldn't take that. As another clever girl that had been let into his life, she was prone to stubbornness and giving him more trouble than he could deal with.

"What's the matter, Tom? You've been in a bad mood and don't seem all that thrilled we found this dead body part." Prue asked, finally stepping in front of Tom to stop him from walking on and ignoring her. Tom sighed, obviously debating on answering her.

"It's just this day is insufferable," Tom started. He really needed to go back much further than several hours to explain the origins of his rage and answer her question properly, "It's the last day of everyone else's year, but it always feels like the first day of mine and I'm stuck in this endless loop of a hellish life. This day is the yearly reminder I have no family to care about my birth. This was the day _she_ gave up on me."

"You have Frankie, don't you? I know she cares about you." Prue reasoned.

"Apparently not." Tom scoffed, harshly and stubbornly.

"Alright, I can't take this pitiful self-loathing any longer. Kitchen. Now."

"The kitchen?"

She literally started shoving him in the direction of the kitchen. Tom tried to reason and argue with her, but he seemed to have angered Prue more than he ever was. When they arrived at a large portrait of a fruit bowl, Prue knocked three on the frame times, tickled the pear in the bottom left corner of the bowl and waited a few moments, before yanking it open like a door. The inside was dark but had the outlines of various kitchen equipment.

"If your plan is to make me a birthday sandwich, or something, I'm really not—"

"_Surprise!"_

Light flickered back into the room to reveal the kitchen was not empty. One of the replicas of the house tables was decorated with leftover holiday decorations, party crackers and a cake along with a few other small snacks. Everyone from their year, who was not on vacation, was crowded around it, wearing emerald and silver paper crowns. Even Frankie.

"What is all this?"

"A party. For your birthday."

"You forgot, though. You left—"

"Don't be stupid," Frankie chuckled, with a small snort. She obviously wasn't expecting to have successfully fooled him with such a weak lie. "It's called a surprise party for a reason, you know. I'm sorry about leaving our walk early, but baking a cake without magic is harder than you think."

Tom walked over to get a better look at the cake and actually join his own party, still slightly in shocking disbelief. He wasn't used to such common birthday traditions. Being surrounded by kids who didn't hate him, not having to share the day with several other December birthday orphans and then there was the simple treat of having birthday cake. There wasn't usually one at an average orphanage birthday party and when there was it had to be plain cheap and shared with at least thirty other kids, so you never got much. This cake wasn't too much fancier looking, however, it was large enough that at least everyone would get a substantial piece of it. It was covered in a dark frosting and had, "Happy Birthday Tom", written across it in swirly white frosting, in Frankie's own script. She really mad it for him and, although not very fancy looking, he was certain it would taste a million times better than any other cake.

"I'm an idiot…"

"Want a piece?" she asked, with a knowing smile. She probably could sense he had been somewhat angry at her for seemingly abandoning him, on the day he was abandoned, and that he was trying to apologize for it. That smile told him silently he was once again forgiven.

"Yes." he replied, immediately. They all sat down with buzzing excited conversation as Frankie and Jacob cut out pieces and started to serve them out. In the midst of the massively unsupervised sugar consumption the group started to say things about Tom, in lieu of presents. First impressions, rumors, and brief encounters. Apparently, he was quite a conversation piece for someone who didn't really speak to anyone before a couple weeks ago. Isabelle Lalonde could've sworn he was a spy from the Ministry, up until his announcement. In fact, she thought that was the announcement. William Dobbs suspected he had a secret Gryffindor, but he assumed it was Sarah, after that first year Quidditch game last year. They were just funny little tales and quant encounters, but he couldn't really expect them to have something more than that.

Meanwhile, Frankie had the little sociopathic orphan stories everyone wanted to hear. When she stood on the bench to speak, she talked about some of the more harmless magical pranks Tom was famous for and how the muggles thought them both cursed creatures. Things that actually caused him, as well as Frankie, quite a bit of childhood grief and isolation in the past. Surprisingly, what Tom thought was what made him so miserable and angry, everyone was laughing at. Even himself. Tom strangely found himself laughing along with them at all these little things that he thought separated him from the orphans and turned him sadistic. He knew the laughter wasn't cruel and judging, it was because they understood. They had magic, they'd gotten themselves into similar situations when they had free range and uncontrollable magic. Frankie concluded the story time with a bow and yet another wish for Tom to have a happy birthday, before stepping back down. After a mild applause, people went back to eating cake and simple chatting, while Frankie returned to her seat.

"You should've told the one where you turned one of Lorna's hair bright pink. That one's one of my favorites." he remarked, as she settled back down next to him. Back when she couldn't control her powers, Frankie had once turned an orphanage worker's hair into a pink so pink it hurt to look at directly. It never did wear off and she eventually ended up having to shave her head.

"That was my fault, though, and it was an accident." Frankie argued, to much of her do goodness.

"Still a good speech, though. Better than any present."

"I actually have something for you—well, not exactly for you— more like something to just show you." Frankie stammered. She fumbled for the pouch she had tied around her and removed a few slightly bloody looking claws from it.

"Funny, me too." Tom replied, suddenly. He swirled around to get into Prue's satchel from over her shoulder, while she continued to eat her cake and ignore him seemingly robbing her bag. He pulled out the taxidermy wing and presented it to Frankie, like some sort of cat that caught a dead thing for its owner. They looked at one another for a brief moment, before bursting out laughing. It wasn't very funny, however, for some reason the thirteen years of constrained laughter was just pouring out of him. Straight faced and serious was getting to be a very boring routine.

Maybe trying to break away from that might do him some good.


	6. Chapter 6

Bonus Story 6

The Boy Hiding Behind the Mirror (Year 2, Part 5)

"Sir? Professor Dumbledore, are you there?"

Tom had just entered Dumbledore's office to see if he had returned from the winter holiday yet. According to Slughorn's most recent letter, the two were probably going to be coming back from the massive manhunt for Zell Gaunt sometime that day. Unfortunately, it said nothing much more than that. Tom would definitely be trying to smuggle some information out of them later, if he could manage it. The whole thing simply baffled him. How could some of the most highly trained wizards of the century go out to catch one man and come up empty handed? However, today Tom was there on Frankie's behalf and could not do the hard-hitting investigating he wanted to do. If she didn't act as if she wanted constant updates on the situation, they would soon suspect her of being up to something. She was running a bit of a fever, so Tom came in her stead. He would be better at acting concerned anyway, considering he was far more concerned for her then she was for herself. Once Tom was through with Dumbledore, he was going to go straight off to Slughorn to tell him that they were giving up Elizabeth's quest and going to leave this whole situation to the adults.

They were about to come back to a perfectly peaceful group of second year students, all working together and harmonious. Obviously, suspicions of a more sophisticated motive were bound to be high. Tom had to do something to make sure they weren't discovered. Knowing Dumbledore and his beliefs in house equality, he wouldn't care how it happened and wouldn't bother to question it. In fact, he probably wouldn't even notice the change at all. As far as he was concerned, the houses were always in perfect harmony. Slughorn, however, might be a little more suspicious. But, being the wonderful liar Tom is, Slughorn would believe whatever lie he decided to tell him.

Tom had merely been sent to Dumbledore to put him in a good mood and act interested in the search of Zell Gaunt, while Frankie was stuck in bed. He walked into the office only to find that Dumbledore appeared to still be absent. However, the owls seemed to be still delivering all his mail for him in that absence. The claw foot desk was shrouded with different letters of different sizes, colors, and languages. Tom sighed and began to pick up the letters, thinking what a slob his teacher was between the mess of trivial contraptions on the wall and his clutter of a desk. Under the belief that Dumbledore wouldn't mind his desk being somewhat organized when he returned, Tom began to organize all the letters into one neat pile on the corner of the desk. However, hiding under the stack was one open letter, sitting next to a vial of silvery liquid. He would not dared to have picked it up and read it, if it hadn't had some words that stuck out to him. They practically grabbed his eyeballs and glued them to the page,

_Dear Albus,_

_I was given this vial in confidence by Elizabeth herself, in the case anything were to happen to her during her time as an Auror. She seemed to know Zell Gaunt would someday return and felt her memories were worth reviewing in such a time. I know you've been somewhat involved in all of this before, upon her and Francis's murder I had no choice but to open it and view the memories for myself, but perhaps they can help in shedding a bit more light on the situation and help areas even you could not have understood at the time. Unfortunately, Zell Gaunt's memories were not captured upon conviction, which was a mistake on the ministry, considering it's the main reason for this disastrous incident. The ministry is prepared to give you anything else you might require for the investigation. Although, I was not Minister of Magic at the time, I will try to take responsibility for my predecessor's mistakes._

_Another matter that must be discussed is no doubt an obvious one. You did not alert me to the fact my goddaughter is indeed alive, until this incident, and I don't think you ever intended to if she hadn't lost her magic. I doubt she's seen Diana either, considering the other day when I spoke to her she still believed her sister perished at the hands of Grigor, like her parents. I don't know where you've been hiding her for six years, but I'll be taking rightful guardianship at once._

_Please respond back at your earliest convenience so that a meeting can be arranged._

_Macgregor Bane_

_Minister of Magic_

"What?"

A godfather? A sister? Dumbledore had never once mentioned Frankie had people like that still remaining in her life. People that definitely still wanted her. How could he be keeping something so important from her? Tom set down the letter and grabbed the vial on the desk, simply labeled, _Zell_, in her mother's own script. The truth was literally in his hands, all the answers Frankie needed and all the answers she didn't even know she wanted. Tom turned to a stone basin sitting on his left surrounded by a cabinet of similar vials of liquid, smart enough to figure out that was where he needed to pour them. He slowly drained the vial into the basin and leaned into view the memories.

Tom was transported to the beginning.

He was suddenly standing in a familiar Hogwarts hallway, surrounded by unfamiliar people. The school was unchanged, naturally. It was always going to be the same no matter what era. A few feet away there was a girl sitting in a courtyard frame that could've been Frankie's twin sister. She was a Gryffindor with long, wavy, brown hair and even though she had her face buried into a book, Tom could see the same hazel eyes peeking out from it. In the moment Tom stared at Frankie's mother, still taking in a bit of a shock, a blonde Slytherin boy suddenly swiped the book from her hands and started to toss it amongst his friends. It was not hard for Tom to guess whose father that was.

"Give it back you vile creeps!" Elizabeth hissed, shooting up to grab it as they tauntingly held it above her reach, not bothering to hide her furiousness and just act lady-like.

"How can you read this rubbish, Elizabeth? There aren't any pictures." Malfoy exclaimed, flipping through the book and seeing nothing but small printed words squished onto the worn pages.

"Smart people don't need them." she scoffed, at what was probably meant to be intended as a flirty conversation starter in Malfoy's eyes. The resemblance really was striking. Tom laughed a little at her witty comeback, while Malfoy snarled at her insolence.

"Why you insolent wen—"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a giant fist clocked Malfoy in the jaw and he toppled over to the ground. Two Gryffindors had rushed into the group, after witnessing the scene from a distance and deciding to take heroic action. Elizabeth sighed, as she was suddenly faced with her future husband and his best friend, while Tom was curious and a little intrigued by getting a glimpse at Frankie's father. He felt like he knew Elizabeth's voice well from her journal, however, Tom did not really know much about Frankie's father. Tom really was not too familiar with the gamekeeper, either, but knew of his appearance from briefly picking up Frankie at his house on occasion. He was shorter and not as hairy and burly as he was in the future, but he still towered above Frankie's father, who was a relatively tall boy. Francis Dickson was a Gryffindor, prideful and courageous, with the appearance as though he should be posed on top of a mountain holding a sword at all times. He had a clueless, mischievous grin aimed at Elizabeth, while she glared at him with contempt.

"Don't worry, Lizzy. Ogg and I have come to rescue you!" Francis exclaimed, like the righteous action hero he thought he was being.

"Great…" she sighed, sounding anything but excited. She had been in this exact situation many times before. It used to just be silly games when they were six years old, but nowadays it was a more literal affair. They fought down the Slytherins that picked on her, like she was still a princess and they were her knights in shining armor.

While they all started to brawl, she simply left, not seeming to care that it was over her. She had enough of them fighting for her honor. Elizabeth ran for cover in a nearby classroom and slammed the door behind her. Tom stood curious as to what she was doing here, while Elizabeth, thinking she was alone, screamed at the top of her lungs and yelled,

"I can take care of myself. I can defend myself. I may be only a third year, but I'm a witch, god dammit! Why won't they stop treating me like some damsel in distress?"

"_My, what a loud scream for such a fair lady."_

Elizabeth quickly turned and was shocked when she came face-to-face with herself. Tom turned as well and faced a giant gilded mirror standing tall in the sunlight. Although, his image would not be reflected, he still gasped in recognition of the mirror he had once faced himself in reality. After the initial shock, however, she took no interest in what was actually a rather peculiar magic mirror. Someone else was there in the room with her.

"Who said that? Who's there?" Elizabeth exclaimed, as she stepped closer and closer to the mirror. It was the only object in the room that was big enough for someone to be hiding behind. She drew nearer, until the voice spoke again,

"Don't come any closer to the mirror! Unless you want to die." the voice snapped at her. Elizabeth stopped and froze in her place, as the voice had commanded her too. Tom, however, ran forward to look who was speaking behind. It was a boy whose features could hardly be determined because he would not let anyone see them. He was hiding in a cloak, behind a mask, and yet he was desperately hiding behind the mirror like it was the only thing protecting him from her eyes. Protecting his identity. However, for Tom at least, considering who these memories were about it was not hard to guess that the boy was Zell Gaunt. "I am—the—Spirit of Erised."

"A spirit? Peeves, if this is another stupid—"

"I am not Peeves." Zell stated, strongly, trying his best not to snap at the very mention of that ridiculous specter. Although, he didn't want his identity known, he wouldn't want to be mistaken for that stupid ghost either. "I'm not like a ghost or a spirit. I'm more like an-an—an angel."

"My very own angel. Wow…" Elizabeth marveled, in a bit of a sarcastic manor. However, she smiled very coyly, showing a sign that she would play along. "Then, tell me, great angel. What should I do? Ogg and Francis keep treating me like a child and fighting all my fights, like I'm such a helpless dame who can't do anything for myself."

"And you aren't? How very modern a women you must be."

"I suppose I am. Someday I want to be an Auror and fight against dark wizards. They don't accept women right now, but I'm hoping they will by the time I am older," she replied. "Although, Ogg and Francis dote on me so much I doubt they will ever let me become one, even if women are acceptable by that time. They act like I don't even have arms, let alone that I could take down the both of them with just a flick of my wand."

"Tell them that, then. You clearly have the courage to stand up for yourself. Use it." he answered, with a small uplift in his voice.

"That simple, is it?"

"It's as simple you make it."

"Thank you for the advice, angel of Erised." Elizabeth smiled. It wasn't much advice, but it made her feel somewhat better. It was the first time in a while someone had made her feel like that and, naturally, she wanted that feeling to last. "May I call upon you again? I have loads of problems and no one to speak of them too."

"You must come to me every Sunday, if you wish to speak with me. I will be here."

"Very well then. I'll see you next Sunday, my angel."

As she left, the people and the room began to blur, the memory changing into another. Although, when the new memory formed, they stayed in that room in almost the exact same place. The only notice of the time that had passed was Elizabeth shorter hair and the fact Zell was no longer wearing the hood of his cloak as he hid behind the mirror. He had neat black hair, just like Tom. However, most of his true features still remained a mystery. Tom tried to imagine the horrible skeletal face he had seen in Frankie's mother's journal, however, it was hard to imagine a face so horrid actually being attached to a person. Elizabeth was now sitting, facing the mirror, in a spot that had probably designated by Zell a safe distance for her to be at.

"It's been over a year since I've been coming to see you, my dear angel. Won't you ever let yourself known to me? Why can I not look upon you as we speak?" she questioned. Naturally, telling someone all your secrets and worries for a whole year and not knowing their true identity would make someone rather curious.

"If you ever were to look upon my true form, I fear I would never get the pleasure of spending another Sunday with you again." he replied, dawning the hood of the cloak as if this would finally be the day her curious mind got the better of her and she decided to look behind.

"Are you really that frightening?"

"Yes…"

The memory changed. Elizabeth was now just entering the room, while Tom was still looking at the boy hiding behind the mirror. Zell had fallen asleep, in the midst of waiting for her to appear. It was odd to see him sleeping, but then again, even monsters needed to rest sometimes.

"Angel? Are you here?" she inquired, looking around. She could hear him slowly breathing as he slept and this was the day her curiosity got the better of her. Elizabeth walked to where Tom was to look and finally see who was hiding behind the mirror. She saw Zell Gaunt, a Slytherin classmate. A boy she had never heard speak, or do anything, to anyone before. He was teased, like she was, but for different reasons. Apparently, he wore a mask to hide his horrid grotesque disfigurement from the world. She was too curious. Elizabeth could've stopped there, go back to her spot and keep on pretending she hadn't the faintest clue as to who he was. However, that burning curiosity was yearning for her to see the boy behind the mask. She yanked off the mask and the face Tom had seen only in pictures had been revealed. A face like death. Expecting it and having a lack of fear, Tom was able to hold back on screaming, not like anyone would've heard him if he did anyway. Elizabeth let out nothing, but a sharp, shocked gasp. However, was still frightened and planning to run far away, until death grabbed her by the wrist.

"DAMN YOU! You just had to look upon the face of your precious angel! Well, it's only me. The freak of the year. Is this what you so desperately wanted to see? I am no angel. I am a monster..." Zell shouted at her. He felt foolish and enraged, letting his guard down so much. He thought just maybe she would be the one who didn't turn away from him. However, one look at her terrified face, was proof of his stupid mistake. He let go of her wrist, "Leave me!"

Elizabeth took haste in rushing to her feet after her wrist was freed from the demons clutches. However, she realized she was still clutching onto something of his. Without meeting his gaze, she held out the mask to him and let him take it back.

"Thank you…"

Tom had no choice to follow her, as Elizabeth rushed down the hall, probably towards her dormitory or some other secluded place he could not reach her. After a while of running through the corridors, she had no choice but to stop and catch the little breath she had left. The fear and adrenaline was overtaking her so much that she could not breathe and running was only making it far worse. As she stopped, all the different emotions she'd been suppressing in the moment had surfaced. Tears swelled in her eyes as she pictured that horrid and terrifying face, screaming at her. She was a generally brave girl, but a boy like that was too much for her to handle.

"Lizzy, what's wrong?"

Like always, Francis had come to save her when she didn't want him or need him too. He stared at her with concern, wanting to know why she was in such a state and do everything in his power to fix it. Elizabeth knew he had no intention to listen. In all the time she had known him, he had never once listened to what she said, or what she wanted. Zell was the only one who really listened to her. He took her feelings into consideration and she had just stomped all over his.

"Leave me alone, Francis!" she sobbed, pushing him away. Elizabeth tore off running again and the memory faded.

As it reformed, Tom was surprised to find that they were back in the abandoned classroom. Elizabeth looked remarkably calm even though she knew what lied beyond the mirror now. She approached the gilded frame, slowly and stopped, a little further away than she used to get. Tom went to see if Zell was still hiding from her, or had abandoned this space after she ran away from him. He was still there, waiting for her, for who knows how long. Odds are she'd been keeping away, frightened about facing the monstrous boy again, but had suddenly changed her mind in a fleet of courage.

"Zell?"

"You came back?" Zell remarked, sounding very surprised. He was clutching to the mirror, but not daring to look around to see if it was only his imagination again.

"I promised you my Sundays and I intend to keep my word." she replied, clearly, still showing no hint of fear in her voice or movements.

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Of course not."

"Do not lie to me." Zell hissed, in retaliation. After being lied to for most of his life he knew lying when he heard it and especially an outrageous one like that. He had yet to meet a person who could bear the sight of his sickly face and not cower in fear. Why did she insist on being different after already proving she wasn't?

"I'm not lying."

In another blurred fade, Tom several more insignificant meetings flash before his eyes. He had to stable himself at the next stop. All the changes were starting to make him motion sick. Tom nonchalantly sat beside them on the ground, praying they wouldn't be moving for a while. Zell and Elizabeth both looked a little older than before. Tom had just seen years of meetings go by in minutes and had probably landed on their last year together, considering Hogwarts only gave you such little time. Elizabeth was actually sitting close beside him. All barriers seemed to have been dropped and they were having a normal conversation, like before. However, Tom knew things could not actually be as different as they appeared. This was the year she wrote the journal.

"Are you excited for the Triwizard Tournament?" she asked him, curiously.

"A series of social sporting events and a ball, of course not." he scoffed back, cruelly.

"The Yule Ball will be so much fun, though! When I was younger, my mother often would go to balls and I would always be very sad about being left behind," Elizabeth went on, despite his harsh reply. "Finally, I get to go to one. I can wear a fancy dress and be a princess for a night."

"Of course, a ball suits you. You are a lovely creature who exudes beauty and confidence. I am a lowly creature, who belongs in the pits of the underworld." Zell exclaimed, in his usual self-loathing pessimism.

"Zell, don't say that..." Tom could see she did not like it when he put himself down. It was sad, pitiful thing. However, suddenly, a light bulb appeared over her head as she figured out a solution to his problem, "I have an idea!"

A short fade. Another week later. Thankfully, Tom didn't have to move this time, though. Elizabeth disappeared, but Zell stayed in relatively the same spot.

"Did they announce it in your first class on Friday?" Elizabeth asked, as she entered the room.

"Yes. A masked Yule Ball…" he replied, pondering the obvious subject in his mind as she brought it up. On Friday, in Herbology for Zell, it was announced that the Yule Ball would be a masked ball and he was immediately happy at the news. It had undoubtedly been Elizabeth's brilliant idea, "You did that for me?"

"I made an appeal to all the headmasters and they all thought it would be a splendid idea," she smiled down at him. Zell had to look away from such a pleasant expression, not used to having someone look at him and remain joyous. Tom knew better than anyone, that it was impossible not to fall for a girl that smiled like that. He looked like as if he would cry if he further continued to look at the seemingly happy girl. Tom, however, having examined a similar smile for many years now, knew that there was something amiss in her's. It was dead and hollow, but he took no notice, "You'll be able to be like everyone else for a night. Are you pleased?"

"I was supposed to be your angel. Why did you decide to become mine instead?"

"You need one more than I do…"

The scene faded and was luckily replaced with the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Tom had gotten really sick of being stuck in that room, staring at that mirror he had spent his whole summer trying to forget about. She didn't see it because his image was not reflected in her memory, but when Tom looked into it he was forced to see himself and Frankie in the frame again. He was suddenly standing with Elizabeth, who was in the Quidditch field bleachers, surrounded by Hogwarts's spectators. Tom ravenously looked down into the pitch to see Frankie's father in his rightful element as a hero. He was fighting off a gigantic vicious looking plant with teeth and probably an appetite for meat instead of sunlight. It had one of it's leafy arms smothering Ogg and tauntingly holding him above Francis's reach, while he was fighting off the other arms whipping at him with a ruby hilted sword.

Tom would've been hypnotized by the epic battle, if he hadn't remembered this was all about Zell and Elizabeth. He looked around, till he spotted a cloaked figure wrapped in a Slytherin scarf making its way through the spectators. It was not like he was forced to stay in the castle dungeons, Zell had every right to go to a school function. Although, not exactly the most typical one, he was still a student at Hogwarts.

Elizabeth noticed about the same time Tom did and cleared a little space for him next to her. They didn't say anything to each other, but there was a silent understanding between them. Elizabeth cheered Francis on, for once watching him vigorously and encouraging his heroics, while Zell sat, mostly just watching her.

_Zap!_

Suddenly, there was a great flash of light that blinded the entire arena. Tom, Elizabeth and pretty much everyone else who was actually watching the game ran to the edge of the pitch to get a closer look at what just happened. The plant was vaporized in a great bolt of lightning that shot from the cloudy sky, manipulated by Francis. Unfortunately, he had forgotten it was still holding him and Ogg when the beam had struck. The crowd watched in heavy silence, as the two boys were both carried off in stretchers. A moment later, the Hogwarts headmaster of the time, Quinten Trimble announced the results, despite the possible deaths of two students. The champion from a school called Castelobruxo came in first place, while Ilvermorny came in second and Hogwarts, of course after such an abysmal defeat and champion on a stretcher to the hospital wing, placed last. The students from the threes schools all started to slowly make their way back to the castle, vigorously discussing the results wondering what the next task might be and hoping those two boys made it through with not much sincerity. Zell tried to disappear with the flow and leave the event before any of his housemates saw him. Although, the Gaunt name was powerful and respected, his unfortunate disfigurement still made him an object of ridicule among them. No one was safe from the torment and ridicule of a Malfoy, even Tom knew that. However, Elizabeth kept him by her side, so she could also have someone to discuss the match with.

"It wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"It was bad for your friends. They got struck by lightning."

"Oh, I hope Ogg is alright…" Elizabeth added, dazedly. She didn't say anything about Francis, though. Tom found that a little odd, but intentional. She looked off worriedly into the distance, not able to focus on the hooded figure walking beside her. "I'm going off to the hospital wing to check on him. I promise I'll be there later."

The scene suddenly changed to that amount of time later, despite Tom wanting to see the electrical damages. They were back in the unused classroom, unfortunately. Zell was sitting on the ground reading a potions book, looking a little more tired than usual. The sun was setting, bathing the room in a golden light when Elizabeth entered.

"You're more than late. What kept you so long?" he asked, as he noticed Elizabeth entering the room with a glum expression.

"Ogg's injury is more serious than they thought." she sighed, somberly.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He lost his magic."

"How tragic." Zell replied, not even able to fake sounding the least bit sympathetic. Ogg and Francis acted like the heroes when in reality they were just as big of bullies as anyone, who he thought deserved to be taken down a peg. Although, they did not pick on him as much as the other boys in their year he had still had more than a few unpleasant run-ins with the two over the years. So, why should he care?

"We've got to do something." Elizabeth protested, not noticing his complete insincerity and sarcasm.

"We? He's no friend of mine."

"Please, I need your help," she begged, gliding down beside him in a graceful flutter and grabbing his both of his hands. He blushed beneath his mask, but naturally she did not notice and kept on talking, "there just has to be a cure somewhere out there and I know we can find it, if we work together."

"Do you really want to be seen with me in public more? I'll drag you down. People won't talk to you." he reasoned, rather stubbornly.

"People already don't talk to me," Elizabeth answered, with a small grimace. Zell looked shocked, even though it should have been an obvious fact after continuing to come and visit him for the past few years. He obviously thought more of her than everyone else did. Why would anyone not want to be friends with Elizabeth? How could someone so kind and lovely be so alone? It didn't make sense to him, "Really, Zell, it won't bother me to be seen with you. You're my friend."

"It'll surely bother Francis, though. Don't you care what he thinks?"

"Of course not. He is not the boss of me."

"I still cannot help you…" Zell mumbled, quietly. There were a dozen different reasons in his head of why he couldn't do this with her, which Tom could easily guess. Firstly, the Gryffindor-Slytherin stigma. His housemates would ridicule him more than they already did and, with Zell, the news would eventually reach his high-class, pureblooded relatives, descended directly from Salazar himself. In addition, it was his Gryffindor tormenters who she was insisting on helping. However, the pleading look, with sad puppy dog eyes, softened him a bit, "Aren't you acquainted with Horace? Sometimes I see you talking to him in Potions. Maybe he can help you with Ogg."

"I enjoy talking to him. He's rather helpful and kind to me in class. I suppose we've become somewhat better friends lately."

"He's rather smart. You should ask him for help."

"You're rather smart too, you know."

"Thank you, but I don't want your Triwizard champion beating me senseless for spending excessive amounts of time with you. I shall pass," Zell scoffed, cruelly. She looked like she wanted to keep arguing, but just sighed and got up to leave again, knowing it would be a fruitless effort. Tom saw the regret in his eyes as she decided to leave him without as much as a goodbye. He had to try and fix his mistakes, but he clearly didn't know how. So, he just continued to give unhelpful suggestions of other people to take his place, "Get that bloke to help you too, the one who graduated. He's around for the tournament, isn't he?"

"I suppose…"

As much as Tom needed to see Elizabeth begin the quest that would eventually be necessary to save her own daughter, since Zell had counted himself out for now, Tom would not get to see her gather her comrades and start to keep the journal. He sighed as images flashed once more to represent a passage of time, debating if he should just try and get out of this thing. The minister was clearly wrong about these memories being useful and they were getting so painful to watch. A few flashed by him, but they were too fast for Tom to really make out. However, the voices still rang clear in his ears.

"Me and Albus found these strange drawings and symbols by the fireplace in the kitchen and found this!" she was saying.

"What is that?"

"I think it's a badger claw."

"Why does it look fresh and bloody?"

"I don't know. The point is I think my founder theory is right. Now, we really _need_ you. You're the Heir of Slytherin."

"No! For the last time, I will not help you!" Zell snapped at her, harshly. "Please, won't you stop this? It's not safe…"

The flashes stopped but, unfortunately, the settings still remained unchanged. At this point, Tom wanted desperately to leave, but he didn't know quite how to get out of there. So, he just sat sulkily and continued to listen, hoping to hear something of value to him soon.

"Cora has decided to help us." Elizabeth stated, eyeing Zell cautiously for his reaction, silently praying her statement wouldn't cause a violent reaction.

"Because of your founder theory? How noble of my sister." Zell replied, surprisingly collected, for someone who was obviously against all this.

"She said it was because I seemed desperate and she didn't want me to have to turn to you."

"Our relationship has as much desecration. I have never told her of my acquaintance with you. Although, I fear she grows suspicious."

"Why haven't you told her?"

"For the same reason you haven't told Ogg or Francis," he stated, quite stubbornly, "The Gryffindor girls are finally talking to you, thanks to them. They haven't spoken to you since you were five and they finally want to be your friends again. I don't want to ruin something like that for you..."

His intentions were undoubtedly good, even if he was just making excuses again. Elizabeth was a vision in his mind and he felt she deserved more than a life of seclusion. Even after all this time, her presences beside him didn't make sense. She glared at him with an equal stubbornness and a clear will to not back down, despite the fact that one wrong phrase could be the difference between facing a living nightmare.

"Do you know what makes my eyes so special?" she asked him, suddenly.

"Not only are they a pretty color, but they are able to withstand high levels of ugliness and repulsion."

"No. They're called 'All Seeing Eyes'. I can see invisible people, illusions and sometimes even into the future," she explained, staring at him intensely with her apparently magical eyes. Zell slightly scoffed in disbelief and turned away, obviously not thinking she was serious. Elizabeth grabbed his hand to turn him back and force him to keep looking at her, "I can see everything and I can see that you're not a monster."

"Really? Why don't you take a closer look?" he snapped, grabbing the wrist that had held his hand and pulling her forward, as if she were not getting a close enough view of him. This time she did not cower, or cry, when held by the skeletal boy with a face of death. She just stared with her powerful eyes, which seemed to unnerve him even more than if she were weeping or shaking with fear, "Do you remember my true face now? My own mother cannot look upon my face without scrunching up her own with disgust. No one who has seen the real me has thought of me as anything more than a monster! What makes you any different than the rest of the world?"

Suddenly, she was even closer and Tom was cringing in horror at what he was being forced to watch. The young girl was pressing her lips on lips that were barely there, kissing the boy behind the monster. Zell was to stunned by the sudden attack to process it was happening. His blank lifeless eyes were suddenly vivid and alive, as if she were pouring the life stolen from him back into him.

"Your face may not make you a monster, but your soul just might, if you continue to let it," she added, quickly rising to leave after her sudden attack, knowing he was too stunned to chase after her, "Someday I hope you'll see what I see…"

Tom only saw quick blurred flashes after the scene, as a twelve year old boy, he had felt the need to advert his eyes from and stick out his tongue in disgust at. It was like someone had tried to erase the next part of the memory with an eraser, but for the most part was unsuccessful in completely getting all of it. There was another kiss. Not between Zell and Elizabeth, but between her and Francis. The memory suddenly shone clear in a shining light of a different classroom, not as abandoned as the other, the smoke of a brewing potion on the desk between them. Tom looked away from this kiss too, not wanting to see such things, only to find that he was not the only one watching. In the shadows, peaking through a crack in the door was Zell.

Tom watched for what he would do to them for this transgression, but he merely walked away, with an expression obviously unreadable.

Suddenly, they were in the entrance hall. It was decked out with garlands and other yuletide decorations, for what Tom assumed was the Yule Ball. He looked around at all the masked faces and immediately found the one who he was meant to follow. It was most likely easy for him because, masked or not, he was drawn to the girl with hazel brown eyes he'd known years before now. Elizabeth was on Francis's arm, chatting with the other champions and their partners in a radiant glow. She wore a pale pink chiffon dress that fluttered and floated, even when she wasn't moving.

Two statues placed on the sides of the doors began to blow large brass trumpets and, at the signal, the doors opened. The students from the three schools started to make their way through them and flood into the Great Hall, except for Elizabeth. She hesitated, holding both Tom and Francis back with her.

"Lizzy, are you alright?" he asked, on behalf of himself and the boy who was not there. Elizabeth finally had everything she'd ever wanted. She had friends, respect, and was on the arm of a boy who treasured her beyond anything else, yet for some reason she didn't look happy. Unlike when Tom had first seen Francis ask her that question, she gave him a small smile and did not run away.

"Yes, I was just thinking on something. Let's go in."

Tom wasn't fooled and neither was Francis, for once, which was probably proof that his feelings were actually as real as he said they were. There was nothing to be done about it now, though. Yes, he could've stopped her, calling her out on her bluff, but tonight was supposed to be a happy occasion. Their first real date. They had to share their first dance and officially begin the ball. Neither wanted to ruin such an event, so they continued on together. The room circled the three pairs, as they twirled around with one another. Francis and Elizabeth were the center of it all. A prince and princess in their own castle. Eventually the teachers and the students joined them and the hall was flooded with good cheer. Meanwhile, Tom was looking around, on guard for his relative lurking in shadows. He had to somewhere, plotting his revenge on such a joyous occasion. With an invisible, powerless boy from the future guarding her fiercely, Elizabeth unwisely let down all her defenses, getting caught up in the swing of the ball.

She was asked to dance, despite being on a champion's arm apparently did not make her exclusively his. A younger McGregor Bane even asked her to dance and he and Francis were even housemates. Then, Elizabeth insisted she dance with Slughorn right afterward, once she had seen him standing across the room without a partner. Tom stopped his search momentarily and curiously eyed Francis, obviously wondering if he was getting jealous yet. He seemed like he would be the type. However, he was just watching Elizabeth laughing and having fun with a loving sort of expression.

Then, _he_ finally arrived to the party.

Zell Gaunt moved through the crowd, tall and proud, dressed in robes of a dark midnight ink. Elizabeth had been right when she thought no one would recognize him in a sea of hidden faces. In this moment, he was not monstrous or disfigured, he was a boy like all the rest. By his stature and his wealth, maybe even someone of value. Girls were certainly looking at him as if he were so, but he paid them little attention. He was heart set to take the next dance with the bell of this ball, even though she was on the arm of a champion.

"May I have the next dance, miss?" Zell asked, bowing to both of them in a polite manor.

"What're you—"

"It's alright, Francis." Elizabeth stated, slightly holding him back from making Zell's face already more deformed then it already was. She removed her mask and gave it to Francis, revealing a brave, rebellious face that would've been a pity to hide away. Tom didn't know what had spurned this obvious and new contempt against him, but it was clear to see she no longer feared him, or loved him, "I'll dance with you."

"Thank you." he replied, with what Tom could tell was a triumphant smirk under his pearly white mask. He whisked her away in a graceful flutter and they began to dance to the rhythm of the next song. The stares tried not to linger as the champion's date took up waltz position with the mysterious stranger. Unlike when she danced with other boys, there was a different sort of air in the room, tense and stiff. Surrounded by people, yet completely in another world.

"What do you want? Why did you decide to come here?" she whispered, as he twirled her in circles. Perhaps, Elizabeth had just taken of her mask to let him know she was glaring at him with hatred.

"You planned this ball for me. It would've been terribly rude of me not to show up." Zell replied, simply. Tom noticed there was something different about him. He seemed more confident and self-assured then the boy hiding away in the abandoned classroom. It was frightening. A monster with pride in his voice.

"After what you did, I told you to stay away from me."

"It was an accident, I assure you."

"No. You knocked over Ogg's potion on purpose after you saw me kissing Francis. I know that's why." Tom gasped at the sudden reveal, the older Elizabeth had decided not to hand over completely to the Minister when she gave him her memories.

"You kissed me first. I had the right to be upset."

"What do you want?"

"_You_. I thought that was obvious." he replied. Elizabeth's eyes widened. She ripped off his mask, in horrid spite, and everyone saw the monster underneath. There were gasps, screams of horror, and practically the entire room took a gigantic step back from the pair. Tom tried to play the hero and get her away from Zell, even though he was a good few feet shorter and just an apparition from the future. He was thinking on instinct for once in his life. Thankfully, Francis was actually there to do it for him.

"Alright, hands off her. This is over!" he shouted, casting himself between them. Francis went farther then drawing his mere wand to strike the monster down, he pulled the same ruby hilted sword he'd used in the task out of midair and stuck it at Zell's neck. Zell showed little fear to this, for he was no longer the demure frightened boy hiding behind a mirror. Elizabeth, Francis, and the rest of this wretched magical world had molded him into something else.

"I'll get you one way or another. No matter where you go, I will always find you. You can't escape me Elizabeth. You're_ mine_!"

They didn't meet again for some time. Tom figured a scene like that might've gotten him expelled, or he just simply got fed up with a place that treated him like garbage and left it to become a dark wizard. He didn't really expect the Gaunts to care enough and try and stop him. Tom was suddenly sitting next to Elizabeth in a low lighted tavern. She was seated at a table looking travel worn and battered, but still rather young and beautiful. Cotswold was still and peaceful outside, while the bar was rowdy with good cheer of the night. A new face entered the bar unnoticed by most, except Tom. It was the face of a real Gaunt. The one birth and inbreeding had cruelly stolen from him. It was noble and handsome. He had come into the bar, obviously expecting to drink away his daily sorrows of a muggle life. However his face lit up, seeing a weary Elizabeth sitting at the bar alone. Tom was curious as to what he might do. She was the one who found where he was hiding, she was the reason he had nothing. Years cannot bury strong feelings well enough though. He casually sat down where Tom was seated, with a chance to start a new.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, casually. She looked at him for a moment, seemingly analyzing him. Perhaps, she felt the familiar feeling he had, but quickly convinced herself it couldn't be the same man. She had helped the Aurors and he received the most severe punishment for his sins.

"Thank you, kind sir, but I probably shouldn't. I have an early start tomorrow. I'm only staying the night upstairs and thought I'd come down to see—"

"Are you a traveler?"

"Yes, for a few years now. I wasn't really sure about what I wanted to do after I graduated school, so I've been traveling the world to figure it out. I just got back a week ago." Elizabeth replied. This struck Tom as an odd thing to say. She had been so set on becoming an Auror and eventually that's what she became. Although, it made sense that wouldn't be the answer to give an apparent stranger, no matter how charming.

"Fascinating! What's the rest of the world up to…?"

Eventually, after much charming banter, he talked her into a drink. A danger she really should've seen as a young woman. When a man sitting on the next stool over spilled his beer over her skirt and she turned rushed to the restroom clean the stain, Tom saw Zell pour a glowing purple liquid from a small vial into her cup. Sleeping Draught. He must've still had a few magical things hidden up his sleeve, even though he no longer had magic.

The world was black again. Clearly she had drunk it and fell under the draught's power. When Tom faded back, he was suddenly in the same room he had collected Frankie from at the end of summer. Elizabeth was lying on the bed, thankfully unharmed, while Zell was impatiently waiting in a chair for her to wake up. He was twiddling his thumb and tapping his foot anxiously, until she stirred.

"Where am I?"

"I told you I would find you."

"Zell…"

"Miss me, my dear?" Zell laughed, cruelly. Elizabeth immediately panicked and searched her pockets for her wand to fight, but it was gone, "There's no point looking for your wand, I've got it right here."

"Oh, don't give me that frightened look, Lizzy. I cannot use it. You and Francis made sure of that when you helped the Aurors track me down," Zell hissed. Even without his magic and the face of death, he was still a terrifying creature. "That being said I'd rather you not use it either. If I'm going to be forced to live a muggle life here, so are you."

"I don't understand. The ministry got you. You're supposed to be a magic-less vegetable, with no memory of ever being a wizard."

"Yes, I believe that is the chain of events, thus far. However, I might've actually got out of having my memory erased. I just couldn't bear to lose all my memories of you." Zell smirked. "I also walked away with something else rather valuable."

"No…" she gasped, in horror.

"Yes! The choice is yours, dear. With your powers, I can continue my noble work and punish this worlds vermin. Stay with me and keep your magic, or runaway and be just another muggle forever," he stated, giving her little time to debate the option. "You think your precious Francis is going to still love you if you don't have any magic. He's always been such a first class chauvinistic prat."

"Like your crimes against the muggleborn were such saintly acts of justice. You're far worse than he is."

"I don't regret my actions…"

"That's all you have to say? Have you really learned nothing after all that has happened?" Elizabeth argued, despite her position. She sighed, calming herself down to think. He was clearly unfixable, no matter how hard she tried to make him see the light. His face may have changed, but inside he was the same. He was a monster, rotten to the core. Her only choices were exactly as he laid them out. Choices that would eventually rebound negatively on her future daughter.

"Fine. I'll stay…"

Tom watched the year pass in slow agony. He didn't really know her, he wasn't really there, and yet there was so much of her in Frankie he felt as though he was connected to her beyond memories. Tom saw Elizabeth's eyes, that were beautiful precious things she and her daughter shared, become hollow and empty. As he built her a library and a greenhouse, everything she could've possibly loved as a muggle was hers to have. She smiled normally, playing the part that had been force upon her, but she clearly felt nothing. Tom could tell she wasn't really there. Zell still couldn't see how much this was clearly killing her, despite how much he claimed to adore her.

It was something on a thread that was easily broken and, one day, it just seemed to snap. Elizabeth was on the floor of the library in that house, surrounded in a sea of books, when he suddenly stormed in uninvited. Zell was dripping off water and looking rather perplexed by her. Something had just happened. Tom could see it in his expression, but would probably not get to find out what it was.

"Zell, are you alright? You're soaking wet—"

"Do you love me, my dear?" he asked, suddenly.

"Of course, Zell." Elizabeth answered, in an obvious monotone. She had lied and Zell could tell that it was a lie this time. Tom readied himself for deranged anger at being lied to about something like that, but Zell expression didn't falter. He almost looked horrified.

"This was a mistake," he whispered, to himself more than her. Drugging her and keeping her locked up was not something people in love did. It was what monsters did and, all he really wanted, was not to be that monstrous boy he was anymore. He never wanted to be a monster. "I thought if I couldn't have magic I could still have love. I thought that the only thing keeping us apart were my distortions. Why do you still not love me?"

"I do love you—" Elizabeth stated, with a little more conviction this time. However, he pushed her away, in disgust.

"Yet you still look at me with dead eyes. Stop it! I've had enough…" Zell shouted, backing towards the door, like she was some kind of demon trying to attack him. "Leave me to die. Just go away…"

"Zell, I—"

"Did you not hear me? I said go, now!" he yelled, pointing towards the door. Zell rushed over to the desk in the corner of the room, unlocked the top drawer, and retrieved her wand. He tossed her wand to her and she caught it. She was going to reach out for him, but hesitated on behalf of his conviction not to look at her, and simply turned to leave instead.

"Thank you…"

Suddenly, Tom felt he was being lifted off the ground and being pulled toward the ceiling. He struggled to keep his place beside them, but the force was stronger than he was. The scene changed and he was back in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was holding his arms, with the sleeves of his robes yanked up, probably having just reached in and pulled Tom out of the Pensive by force. He was busted.

"That's enough of that now." Dumbledore added, releasing Tom and heading towards the Pensive to quickly re-bottle the memory.

"Sir, I didn't mean to—"

"Snoop? I'm not accusing you of any snooping, Tom. I suppose the vial just sort of fell off my desk and into the Pensive, as they so often do."

"I'm sorry…" Tom added, weakly. He was going to just leave before he got in even more trouble, but something possessed him to sit down in one of the chairs reserved for students. Dumbledore probably wasn't actually that angry with him and there wasn't going to be any repercussions for this incident, yet he still stayed put. Tom was still curious about some things. Why did Zell change his mind? What exactly were Zell's crimes? Why was the ministry such a screw up? Did Elizabeth really love Francis? However, the only question that seemed to come out was:

"Professor, I'm not going to end up like him, am I?"

He loved Frankie. Certainly not to the same extent Zell loved Elizabeth, but Tom was sure they would only grow stronger as time went on. He would've liked to think that no matter what their future held he could survive, even if she did not feel the same way. However, he failed to see an outcome where she was not in his life, or in his life with someone else. This was exactly why he didn't want to get in something so useless like love. It was a lot of work for something that could end up so horribly. And, what was the upside exactly? Not being alone. Tom had always been alone before Frankie came along, why was the thought so horrifying now? He had grown far too dependent on her.

"That all depends on you, Tom. I understand it that you've become aware of your family's transgressions and I implore you not to follow in their footsteps," Dumbledore answered, grimly. "However, ultimately the decision is yours."

"What do I tell her? Can I even tell her? You've kept a lot secrets from Frankie, you know. She has a right to know that she still has family out there that wants her."

"Another decision I'll leave up to you, Tom. Tell her if you feel you really must. I'll arrange for her to be adopted into the Minister's care—"

"Don't you dare try to threaten me with that, old man! It's not going to stop me from telling her." Tom shouted back, clenching his fists with anger. Dumbledore had not used a threatening tone, but Tom just knew taking Frankie out of orphanage was meant to bait him into doing the wrong thing. Tom would be alone in that cesspool once more, which would be a total nightmare for him, but Frankie had a chance at a family. Not a fake one comprised of muggles that Tom could simply stop with harmful lies and magical mischief. A real one. How could he possibly take an opportunity like that away from her?

_You're my family…_

"It was not a threat, Tom. I was merely discussing the future plans that will occur once you tell her," Dumbledore stated, not responding to Tom's violent outburst. "If you see it as such a dangerous threat to you, perhaps you'd better re-learn how to survive without that girl."

Tom rose to storm out, but Dumbledore grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Another thought before you leave, Tom," Dumbledore added. "A single grain of sand can be enough to tip a scale. Telling her might also have other repercussions. I hope you're prepared to handle the fallout."

Tom understood what he was saying, despite his usual vague creepiness. Frankie was just one bombshell away from shattering for good. Her mind concealed so much from her because it was trying to prevent her breaking completely. If Tom told her about all the secrets that Dumbledore had kept, he might lose her forever.

He shook him off and ran for it.

Tom was rushing passed the Great Hall when a voice called his name. the one voice he didn't want to hear right now. Frankie stood on the stairs, a bit read, but for the most part alright. She hopped down the steps to meet a frozen Tom at the bottom.

"Tom! There you are. I've—" She stopped, suddenly, noticing his pained expression. "Are you alright?"

Tom clung to her for a desperate moment, took her up in his arms, unable to say the things he needed to say to her, wanting to protect her. He wanted to tell her what had happened, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I'm sorry…" was all he could manage, before he released her and ran away.


	7. Chapter 7

Bonus Story 7

The Roar of a Lion (Year 2, Part 6)

In a hard time Frankie desperately needed Tom the most, he had suddenly decided to turn his back on her. Lately, he'd been giving her the cold shoulder in classes and after meals, pretty much every time their paths crossed. He wouldn't even show up to the secret meetings he himself planned for their year in the Room of Requirement. Frankie played it off like he had caught her small cold at first, however, people soon became suspicious of this when he showed up for classes completely fine and seemingly healthy. Besides, Tom was never one to catch a cold. Then, the other Slytherins, like Malfoy and Lestrange, eventually began skipping too and less people seemed to be motivated to prove their intelligence without Tom to challenge them. The group diminished and their efforts suddenly stopped. It was surprising how much Tom was actually the one holding everything together, when Frankie was the one they were all supposed to be trying to help.

"Don't worry about it so much, Frankie. I'm sure it's not your fault."

It was another early Sunday morning in February and, instead of getting ready for a Sunday walk with Tom, Frankie was sulking on her bed in Gryffindor dorms. Tom had been strangely avoiding her for an entire month already, but on Sundays the feeling of neglect really hit hard. It was supposed to be their day. Dylan and the other girls were trying to make her feel better, but like usual it wasn't working very well.

"He'll come around eventually. I'm sure he's just a bit stressed with everything that's going on." Dylan was reassuring her, to no avail.

"I suppose…" Frankie sighed, although she knew that was not the case. Tom was a pretty sensible person and he probably had a good reason for doing this, whatever it was.

"Why don't you write him? You haven't done that in a while." Bina reasoned. The other girls nodded in agreement. Frankie sighed and retrieved a quill, a pot of ink, and piece of floating parchment. She knew he wasn't going to write back, but she thought she might as well humor them.

Meanwhile, in Slytherin dorms, the boys were getting ready to go out and enjoy the late snowfall they had been graced with this month. All except one. Tom sat on his bed surrounded by various textbooks and long rolls of parchment that rolled out all the way to the floor, buried in some sort of intense work. The other boys took him in for a moment, wondering if they should disturb him or just leave. It was a dangerous decision. Disturbing him would definitely have bad repercussions. Even though he was supposed to be a softer person with everything going on, he had suddenly snapped back to being cold and cruel to everyone and anyone. Lestrange, Avery, and Malfoy eventually agreed it wasn't worth the effort to ask him to join them and went downstairs. However, Peter lingered on. He drew closer to Tom's bed, while Tom continued on working.

"We're all meeting tonight. Are you skipping out again?" Peter mucked up the courage to say.

"Yes. I need to study." Tom replied, not looking up from his ancient runes textbook for even the slightest second to address him.

"Really? You're the only one who has already read the textbooks front-to-back—"

"What're you _implying_, Peter?" Tom sneered, cruelly. The pudgy boy before him shriveled up immediately at the harsh glare. Bothering him was a mistake.

"Nothing. Never mind…" Peter mumbled, with a sorrowed sigh. He was a typical 'no conflict' type of person, who was spineless and gave up far too easily, which is why the old Tom liked him better than someone like Malfoy, or Lestrange. Although, in a fleet of courage, at least Peter had tried. That was more then what could be said for the others. He left Tom in his sea of study and headed quickly downstairs to join the rest of the Slytherin boys. They waited at the bottom of the stairs, seemingly knowing what kept him, and were waiting for a verdict, "He's not budging an inch."

"That's a shame. I was actually kind of having fun for once." Lestrange grumbled, quietly. He didn't want to admit the new regime was actually a welcomed change, despite how morally opposed he was at first. However, Lestrange got the sense that he wasn't the only one feeling it, so decided it was safe to speak his mind for once. Quin and Aidan actually had some good taste in Quidditch teams. Prue wasn't half bad either…

"We could still go, you know?" Peter replied, for-a-matter-of-fact.

"Without Tom, there's no point. I hate to say it, but none of those lot are as smart as him. They're never going to figure out how to complete the quest without him." Lestrange argued.

"I know he still wants to help. I mean, his bed is right next to mine, does he really think I don't see him spilling over that musty old journal with a fine tooth comb?" Malfoy added. "Also, he'd never abandon Frankie to muggledom. He's not that cruel."

"So, what's his problem? Did he pick a fight with her, or something?" Lestrange questioned, with a feverous glare up the staircase.

"Who's to say. We probably aren't going to know, if he keeps insisting on shutting us out." Peter said.

"Why don't we just go ask him straight up?" Lestrange exclaimed, suddenly.

"It will never work. The only person he ever really opens up to is Frankie." Peter reasoned.

"But, we're supposed to be his friends. Right?" Lestrange fumed, angrily

"Lestrange! No!" Avery shouted, but it was unnoticed.

They all tried to stop him, but Lestrange ran back up the stairs and back to their dorm room in an angry, fed-up huff. When he arrived, Tom looked up for a moment to address his presence, but then simply turned back to Elizabeth's journal and continued to pretend like he didn't exist. Lestrange's wild eyes were just about to make Tom acknowledge him, when they wandered to something new in the room that had not been there when the boys had all left. A letter from Frankie, fresh and unfolded, just waiting diligently on the sill.

"Oi, you do know there's something on the window sill for ya', right?" Lestrange barked, angrily. He was ignored. "Aren't you even going to bother to answer her?"

"What's it to you, Lestrange?" Tom scoffed, into his runes book, once again not even bothering to acknowledge who he was actually talking to.

"Allow me then, my lord," Lestrange added, dryly, with a highly sarcastic bow. He rushed to the window and snatched up the letter, before Tom could get up to stop him, " _'Dear Tom, I know we haven't been speaking a lot lately. If I've done something to upset you'_—Are you kidding me? She doesn't even know why you're in a piss mood."

"Butt out! It's none of your business!" Tom sneered. He didn't know what had gotten into Lestrange all of a sudden. Normally, he wouldn't dare to speak at him with such an insubordinate tone.

"Look, I don't really know why you're friends with her in the first place. She's nothing like you and she doesn't even have magic anymore—"

"Watch your tongue—!"

"However, I've found that I prefer you having a friendship with her, rather than not. You're much more of a prat when you _aren't_ talking to her and that's saying something." Lestrange continued, over Tom's furious bark for his silence.

"How dare you!" Tom snapped, with a yell so loud the whole house had probably heard it. He completely forgot about his wand in the heated moment and lunged at Lestrange in a fury that could not be stopped.

"Put em' up, Riddle. Let's see what you got." Lestrange yelled back, putting up his fists to defend himself. Although, he was a bony skeleton compared to Lestrange, Tom did not back down. They tousled over Tom's bed, getting in their punches, knocking several things lying to the ground. Including books, parchment, the journal, and a fresh pot of ink. It shattered and the sound broke them out of their fiery fistfight immediately. The black ink filled the cracks in the stone floor and dispersed itself to practically everything that was. Unfortunately, at the epicenter of it all, was the most precious thing to lose. Elizabeth's journal.

"Look, what you've done now, you imbecilic! _Get out_." Tom yelled, at once, shakily pointing for the door.

"Tom, I didn't mean to do that. Here, let me—"

"I said, out. _Now!_"

He left at this command, reverting back to the follower Tom had made them all into when all he was trying to be was a friend. Tom crouched down by the ink soaked journal in a paralyzed shock. His brain rushed with a different adrenaline driven by fear rather than anger, trying to quickly think of a spell that he knew that could salvage it, but was coming up empty.

_No…_

The journal was lying open to a page that Tom had been studying now, before Lestrange had just ruined everything. It was a page covered with runes that he'd been trying to decipher meaning behind for weeks now. However, thanks to Lestrange, not only would Tom never know what the symbols meant, but Frankie's only hope and salvation was gone. Elizabeth's journal, as guarded and unhelpful as it seemed, was essential in getting her powers back. Without it, they were utterly lost.

While Tom was busy cursing Lestrange and planning on going at him with more than just his fists and good looks next time they crossed, he didn't notice the spilled ink was slowly siphoning itself from the page. It took a little of it going up his nose to notice that the ink was actually rising into the shape of four particular rune symbols. Tom scrambled for a piece of parchment to carefully capture them and could only manage to find the crumbled up wad that was Frankie's most recent letter. Ehwaz, Unknown, Hydra, and Demiguise were soon spread out over the text, a little dismembered but for the most part still readable.

"_Violetus illuminati_"

_Beware the third floor. Security is tight._

Tom sighed at the vagueness only Elizabeth herself would be able to make sense of. However, it was clear to him that either Slytherin's, or Gryffindor's, secrets were hiding up on the third floor and these certain symbols would help him. At first, Tom thought to immediately run to tell Frankie and celebrate another small victory in this seemingly never-ending battle. They would go there with some of the others and bring back the third ingredient together.

Although, on further thought, he began thinking about the task a little more rationally. If it was Slytherin, he'd probably want his heir to come alone and, if there really was a Basilisk waiting in there, Tom would be the only one who wouldn't get eaten. It might even just eat him. I mean, after a few hundred years, that thing had to be somewhat hungry and it's not like Tom is its original master. He was just a child. Frankie was pretty tough, even as a girl with no magic, but there was no way she was '50-foot-long-snake-with-a-literal-death-glare', kind of tough.

So, after packing a few minimal supplies and the journal, Tom decided he was going to do this one all on his own.

Thankfully, Frankie had given up on Sunday walks some time ago and wasn't waiting outside the Great Hall like always. Every time Tom saw her, the truth wanted to come out and he felt like he wanted to vomit it was trying to get out so badly. Tom was able to make it all the way to the main stairs without anyone noticing his clearly suspicious behavior. Of course, his luck just had to turn for the worst right before he made it to the third floor. Tom had almost crashed full force into Leri in his haste.

"Hi…" Leri stated, in a shy sheepish fashion, that did not suit her. They were still rather new to talking to each other, without faked infatuation and fifty pounds of sarcasm to protect them. It was an awkward relationship without these defenses. They didn't really have much in common. Lately, Tom had been teasing her about her new love in their evenings in the common room. He still found it hilarious. However, apart from that, they had nothing.

"Good day." Tom remarked, politely.

"Where are you going?"

"Just up to Gryffindor tower to get Frankie for our Sunday walk."

"Liar! You've barely said a word to her in a month. She won't shut up about it." Leri ranted, pointing an accusing finger at his obvious lie. It was kind of obscure to him that Leri was talking to Frankie on a normal occasion, while he wasn't talking to her at all. "What's wrong with you? Why won't you talk to her?"

"_Why_ is this suddenly everyone's top concern?" Tom questioned. Apparently getting everyone involved and making their friendship public, meant there was practically a riot when he finally started treating her as a Slytherin often treats a Gryffindor. First Lestrange, now Leri, who was next? It was getting aggravating. He started to walk past her, "Leave me alone, Leri. I don't want to talk to anyone right now. Especially you."

"No! Everyone is sick of rolling over when you say so and so am I. Try opening up to someone other than her for once in your life and tell me what's going on with you lately." Leri shouted.

"Why are you pushing so hard for this? Why do you even care?" Tom snapped back. "You don't give a damn about me, or her. You've made that very clear over the past year."

"I wish dearly to not give a damn about either of you," Leri said, through gritted teeth. Tom was testing her patience, like always, and soon she would snap. Although, there was a hint of something between the anger that almost sounded like sadness. She sighed and calmed herself down. It wasn't his fault that he didn't understand, "The truth is that ever since the first moment I saw you two I've envied you with every fiber in my being. The sight of you together sickens me and I'm not really even in love with you."

"Envy? What could you possibly have to envy about me, or Frankie? You come from one of the most powerful wizarding families and have always gotten everything you'd ever wanted," Tom reasoned, huffily. She had literally no reason to be complaining and hating either of them, yet for some reason that was all she ever did. "Meanwhile, we've been growing up in a muggle orphanage, getting called freaks and are constantly shoved into the mindset that our magic is something to be ashamed of."

"You might not understand, because the only family you've ever had is as supportive as a back brace and adores you, but not all family is as kind. Have you ever read anything on the Black family before?" Leri inquired. Tom shook his head. The noble house of Black were entwined with almost every other ancient pureblood wizarding family and Tom really didn't want to figure out if that included his. "Coming from that family is like being in a garden of perfection. Everything that is ugly and damaging to the garden's beautiful image is instantly weeded out in a heartbeat."

"It can't be—"

"Have you even seen my sister yet, Tom? She's only a year above us and gets 'outstanding' in every class. Or any of my several dozen cousins that litter the school with their flawlessness. That's what I'm up against," she explained, "I don't compare. I'm nothing special, especially with you two around."

"What _really_ happens if you fail at being perfect?" Tom inquired, with genuine curiosity. So, you just get disowned by the family. It didn't sound like such a harsh punishment. Independence was good. Leri, however, took out her wand and pointed at his forehead. Tom mentally recoiled at the touch, but kept his cool composed look. She would not actually use it on him, despite how she seemed. Leri waved it in a motion like she was firing a gun, blowing his brains out, and Tom knew that's exactly what she meant.

"I'm not joking around here…"

"I could've been in a family like yours—"

"Yes, but the fact is that you weren't. You have no idea what it's like and how lucky you are to at least have someone that really cares about you," Leri argued, her voice shaking a bit. "I would give anything to have something like that."

"Having a real family is better than having no family at all. No matter what they're like…" Tom told himself, more than her. It was the mentality he was trying to push upon himself, even though he truly didn't believe it. At first he might've believed such a statement. Back at the orphanage, there were many times Tom wished to have his real family back and not be stuck there. Then, he met Frankie and she called him her family, which he soon realized was far better than growing up as a Gaunt or a Riddle, "…which is why I'm trying to let Frankie go. So, she can have a real family."

"What're you talking about?" Leri questioned, obviously confused.

"The Minister is her godfather and her sister is some ministry employee. They want to take her back. They're going to take her away…" Tom replied, in a brittle sort of voice. Normally, it was easy to hide how he really felt. However, at the thought of losing everything he had, he couldn't help but break down and crumble.

"Does she know?"

"Why do you think I've desperately been avoiding her?" he snapped, but not on purpose. Leri was silent, for once. It took her a long time to absorb the shock of the information before she could speak again.

"Okay…" she concluded. There was nothing else she could really do or say to him. This was not the conversation a budding friendship could tackle, it was far too heavy. "I'm going back to leaving you alone now."

"That's probably for the best…" he sighed, composing himself once more.

Leri continued to walk down the stairs, pretending she had not been stopped in the first place, while Tom continued to ascend to the third floor, pretending the same.

After unlocking the simple locked door that guarded the forbidden corridor, Tom stumbled into the darkness of the third floor. They got a warning every year this place was out-of-bounds territory and everyone was always too afraid to ask as to why that was exactly. He lit his wand to glimpse his surroundings and better adequate himself to the dangers he was getting into. However, the corridor was just dusty and eerily abandoned. Tom was finding himself a bit dissatisfied, however, gathered what lied ahead of him would certainly not disappoint.

"_What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?_"

Tom stopped his pointless wandering to consult the journal. He beckoned to Elizabeth to help him, however, her journal remained a symbol covered mess of words and brilliant nonsense. Suddenly, Tom felt an unnaturally, breezy chill on his right that caused him to turn his light in its direction. A door not marked, not special, or standing out in anyway, was waiting to be opened by someone. Someone like Tom. He surely wasn't about to turn back now, considering what he had to lose. So, he opened the door to gaze at horrors of the unknown. The first test in undoubtedly another long series of tests he'd have to face.

A mess of symbols unexpectedly made sense. It felt like the entire room was based of Elizabeth's journal. Rune symbols plastered practically every inch of the ceiling and the floor. There were dozens Tom had never even seen before, despite his advanced research. However, he didn't need to know all of them. Just four. The Hydra was the closest one to him. Tom leapt onto the symbol and the stone around it seemed to seep down slightly, like a button. It glowed a bright green. The next one was Ehwaz. Tom was able to make the jump very nearly. The symbol sank and glowed red. However the second he was removed from the Hydra the symbol rose back up and stopped glowing. Tom stopped to analyze and make his next move. It appeared they needed to be weighed down by four people, if they were expected to stick and reveal the next chamber. A job that seemed quite impossible for one skinny, little boy, even with magic. Not to mention the fact that the other two symbols were on the ceiling and he still had no idea the consequences that awaited stepping on the wrong symbols.

However, Tom was a stubborn creature. Stubborn and determined.

"_Flipendo!"_

The Knockback Jinx worked. However, holding it there would only drain him before too long, and he would not be able solve the task. Tom tried aiming it to quickly hit the other symbol on the ceiling, before it stopped glowing, and try to cheat it. Unfortunately, he stepped back in the desperate attempt to catch the second symbol. He realized it too late and, suddenly, the room started rumbling like an earthquake and ring out a horrible alarming sound to notify Tom of his fatal error. Water started to swarm his ankles in a cold buzzing rush. Tom made a reach for his bag, but both his bag and wand were thrown out of the room in the current specifically designed to work against him. The room was filling fast with no intention to stop. It reached his waist in a matter of seconds and was steadily crawling its way up his body. Soon it would be easy to touch the ceiling, because his feet were about to lift up off the floor any minute. Tom was soon completely submerged holding onto little air he kept from before the flooding. Out of ideas and conviction, he waited for death to come and collect him.

Of course, Tom was still frightened. If he wasn't immersed in cold water, he probably would've been shaking and crying. He was only thirteen. Considering the very first thing he ever witnessed in his life was death, how could it not utterly terrify him? Tom's life was finally starting to be a good one and he did not want to lose it.

He didn't have a lot of fears, but he surprisingly did have quite a few regrets, for a boy his age. He regretted trying to do everything on his own and pushing anyone who tried to get close to him away. He regretted living a life up until quite recently where he was barely living at all. However, out of all the things Tom regretted, he didn't regret her. Instead of cursing the girl that caused him to plunge himself recklessly into this situation, he begged for her forgiveness. Ignoring her, keeping secrets and not being able to protect her properly—

_Thwack!_

Suddenly, something slapped him back to life. Tom opened his eyes to find Frankie glaring at him inches away from his face. She was drifting in front of him, holding his almost emptied cheeks in her hands, his bag slung across her shoulder. Despite her grudging expression, she had come there to save Tom and needed to act quickly. In a slowed-yet-somehow-fast motion, before Tom could even process her presence there at all, she slammed her lips onto his.

Maybe it was just the life threatening situation, or the fact that she was actually giving him air to survive, but Tom actually felt something in the moment. His cold numbed body was instantly warmed and flooded him with the strength to keep fighting. The warm blissful feeling, also the extra air, snapped him back into action and he dug into his bag for Frankie's letter. He gestured the four symbols on the page, praying they were still somewhat legible, and she swam for towards the door for the backup they needed. Prue and Jacob came swimming towards the ceiling symbols, while Tom and Frankie struggled to reach the bottom and put the little weight they had on their symbols. The Hydra glowed green at Tom's touch, the Ehwaz red at Frankie's. Prue made it to the Unknown symbol and Jacob to the Demiguise, which also glowed their founder's colors at their touch. The water was instantly drained from the room and Prue and Jacob were slammed back onto the ground besides Tom and Frankie. Tom stole a quick glance at the symbol beside the Ehwaz. It was the rune symbol for water. However, considering Prue and Jacob were strewn across all the symbols between them, it was safe to say the room had been deactivated.

"What are you doing here?" Tom asked, in a breathily, adrenaline-exhausted huff. He ran up to Frankie and almost hugged her in relief. However, remembering all the unsavory secrets he was keeping from her, was held back from being swept up in a moment of reprieve and joy. Her expression was seemingly normal, but Tom knew she was still glaring at him on the inside. Prue and Jacob ran for the door, to take cover from the impending awkward conversation.

"We were heading for the meeting when Leri warned us you were headed to the third floor, alone." Frankie replied, stonily. Tom glared towards a blonde head and grey eyes, peeking out from the doorway, alongside the second year Gryffindors and the rest of the second year Slytherins. Although, she had just saved his life, she undoubtedly had told Frankie the things he had not wanted mentioned. "She also told me why you've been avoiding me, about the Minister and my sister."

"You—"

"Tom, we can discuss it later, but right now we really need to do this without any distractions." Frankie interrupted, holding his sleeve back from going at Leri. She pointed to a new doorway that had opened up on the other side of the room, but Tom ignored it. The quest could wait, until she talked to him properly.

"You just kissed me, you know," Tom added, suddenly, pulling her into an entirely different conversation knowing she could not escape it. It was technically both of their first kiss and he didn't want to think it was all for the purpose of saving him from death. "Was that not meant to distract me a little?"

"I was trying to make sure you didn't die from reckless stupidity!" she snapped, with a feverous blush. "There was nothing romantic about it, if that's what you were thinking."

"Of course not. How foolish of me to insinuate something of the sort," he murmured, trying not to sound mildly disappointed. Frankie started moving for the new door and Tom began to follow behind her, "You can all stop spying now. The show is over. We need to keep moving…"

The group was tinged in a tense silence as they entered the next task chamber. Unlike the first room, this room was a little more spacious. The stone was smooth and unmarked. Nothing covered the walls and the floor was solid no matter where you stepped. However, upon looking upward, the ceiling was very much occupied with a peculiar clutter. Glass tubes of different colored liquids producing god knows what and depositing them drop by drop into four glass bottles placed along the far wall. At the rate they were going, the tubes probably produced enough for a sip every century.

"What does the journal have to say about this room?" Prue asked, still curiously examining the tubes crisscrossed all over the ceiling, as they crossed the threshold toward the bottles.

"Probably, nothing the wall doesn't." Tom replied, instantly noticing the gold script that had appeared on the wall behind the potions. They all gathered closer to read the next task.

_Four potions here are distilled, brewed very slowly over several years._

_Only one will lead you on your way, choosing wrong will make you pay._

_Drink the potion for knowledge and you'll never be bleated._

_Drink the potion for loyalty and you'll find your way._

_Drink the potion for power and you'll never be defeated._

_Drink the potion for courage will spell your death._

_Guess right, the secret is yours._

"it doesn't rhyme. Aren't riddles supposed to rhyme?"

"Well, this place isn't exactly Ravenclaw made, now is it?

"This is impossible!"

"Well, it's not like there's much consequence for getting the wrong one. I mean extra wits, more power, these sound like far better prizes. Only one of them is deadly and it's not like it's very hard to guess which one that is," Malfoy reasoned, thinking he was being logical about it. "The power potion could restore Frankie's magic and then we wouldn't need to go any further."

"It can't be true, though. Nothing is that easy," Tom replied, harshly. He would give anything for things like more power, or knowledge, but these promises seemed too good to actually be real. "The only potion we take is the one that will lead us to the next task. Got it?"

"We just need to follow the riddle." Prue reasoned.

"Tom Riddle, that is. Top grades in potions, one of Professor Slughorn's favorites. This should be a cinch for you, Tom." Lestrange remarked, brightly and surprisingly not sarcastically. He was probably just brown-nosing to get back in Tom's good graces after their fight. Strangely it worked, just a smidge. He half-smiled at Lestrange for a small secret moment.

"I—I can't be sure. How about you Frankie?" Tom murmured. He turned to Frankie almost immediately, not really even given the task at hand much thought. It was a desperate attempt to get back in _her_ good graces. However, it was her turn to give him the cold shoulder, so he would have to solve it himself or pick another. "Leri, you have a decently well potions grade, don't you?"

"You want me to decide?" Leri repeated, clearly baffled by this sudden decision.

"Your guess is about as good as mine." Tom smiled. He could've done it himself, but where was the fun in that? He still had a horribly curious mind and a pension for creating mischief. There was something he wanted to test and, after spilling his secrets to Frankie, Tom believed she deserved it.

Leri, who was usually an extremely confident girl, was at a loss for words. She stared at the bottles, unable to recall any information that might help her in this situation. After many moments of staring, she finally picked up the bottle with a violet color liquid.

"Alright, if you're sure—Quin! Test it." Tom demanded, immediately, shoving the bottle into Quin's face.

"What?! Why me?" Quin protested.

"Random selection," Tom claimed, although everyone knew it wasn't just coincidence, "Don't worry, it probably won't kill you?"

"Probably?"

"You've got a twenty-five percent chance," Tom was already placing the bottle in Quin's hands, as if he had already accepted. They exchanged their normal heated glares, however, they were not fighting over the same old thing. Tom was still challenging him but, what his aim was this time exactly, no one knew. Except maybe Leri, if his suspicion just so happened to be right. Tom lifted his glare to gaze at Leri and Quin followed, "Don't you trust her?"

Quin looked at Leri for a moment, as if seeing her for the very first time. She was a cruel, vain girl, who terrorized his friend and probably despised him too. They were practically strangers at school. Although, he had known her once. A very brief affair, but he had seen good in her. She wouldn't intentionally throw him into harm. And that was all it took to convince him to do this.

"_Wait!"_ Leri shouted, desperately grabbing the bottle, before he was able to fully tip it back. If it had been Tom, or Frankie, or literally anyone else testing it besides her immediate best friend, she would've let them do it without the faintest hesitation. The vapid queen did actually care about the people she loved. A tell that had been all to obvious and confirmed Tom's reservations. "Give me a little more time. I'm not sure yet."

"You don't have to do this alone, you know. Despite what _he_ says," Quin reasoned, putting a supportive hand on her shoulder, "I'm not good at potions, but let me try to help."

Everyone else agreed the task was too difficult to do alone and pitched in their collective potions knowledge to help her with the task. Although it was not Tom's will, he had still gotten what he wanted and waited patiently for the group to make a decision he had already made five minutes ago. On his right stood Frankie, as they were surprisingly left on the outside together. Tom had not manipulated it to be that way and she wasn't helping out, so she must've actually wanted to talk to him now.

"What precisely are you doing, Tom?" Frankie asked him, her arms still crossed in an angry huff, but her inquisitiveness getting the better of her.

"Oh nothing. Just being curious." Tom grinned back, mischievously. The secret with himself only frustrated her further and she put more distance between them.

A decision was finally made. Leri held the black potion in hand and gave it to Tom for a better inspection.

"It's the black one, then? That's not usually a good sign in potions, are you sure this is the right one?" Tom replied, skeptically. "We'll see then."

He handed over to Quin to once again be the guinea pig and, instead of arguing this time, Quin accepted. Before Leri could start to argue or even comprehend what he was doing, he chugged a big sip of the black ooze and handed the bottle back to Tom, who placed it back to be simply be refilled. Leri stared fixed at him, trying not to give herself away too much, but still had clear fear and uncertainty in her eyes. Quin didn't seem to be effected in the first few of seconds, quickly luring her into a false sense of security. However, his eyes were slowly filling up with a black sea of darkness until they were completely engulfed in the oozy potion's clutches.

"_Quin_!" Leri immediately clung onto him with tears swelling in her eyes. How could she have done this? He was surely going to die. Quin however did not seem blinded, or pained by the darkness at all. He just blinked at her, seemingly baffled by her behavior.

"What's with the scream? I'm alright!" he assured her, with a warm foolish grin at her tear stained face. Quin wiped a couple tears away so she could see his warm hazel eyes return to normal. He looked around with eyes unclouded and saw what he needed to see. "The entrance is that way."

Tom investigated the wall in question and found that his hand went right through, like the pillar in King's Cross that lead to platform 9 ¾. The team followed him, with Leri rushing off right after Tom and the Gryffindor boys giving Quin victory high-fives as they passed him. Frankie once again lingered. She finally had seen what Tom had and she found it hard to believe after the lengths Leri had gone to keep her and Tom apart last year. Quin looked pleased to be walking with Frankie. Between Tom and the other Gryffindors, he hadn't gotten a moment alone with her in a long time.

"Have you ever spoken to Leri before?" Frankie asked, curiously. He looked surprised.

"Not really... I mean, her aunt is dating Aidan's brother, so we all went school shopping together last year. That's when I first met her and the only time we've really talked," Quin replied. "I thought she seemed nice, before…"

"…before she became a Slytherin."

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason—she just seemed like she really wanted to be friends with you back there," Frankie stated, trying way too hard to sound like she wasn't as invested as she was. Then she thought about tom and his seemingly cruel actions towards them. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted Leri to be with someone who truly made her happy. "I think you should talk to her more. She's a lot more shy then she lets on."

"I'll keep that in mind. I guess that's one of the points of all this, apart from saving your magic, right? Making new friends." Quin grinned.

Frankie nodded returning his smile with one of her own. They finally caught up with everyone in the next room. It looked to be just a small unused classroom with desks pushed carelessly up against the walls and old books left ajar. There was however something that set this class apart from any other empty class.

Standing tall in the middle of the room was a grand gilded mirror that did not belong there.

"No… it can't be…"

The door had transported them to Elizabeth and Zell's special place and the Mirror of Erised. Tom was the only one who had been there before and knew exactly what awaited him in the mirror. The object was a cruel truth he didn't ever want to face again, especially after the taunting reminders on his trip through Elizabeth's memories. There was no way he could possibly face the mirror with real Frankie right behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Bonus Story 8

The Roar of a Lion (Year 2, Part 7)

"What is it, Tom?" Frankie inquired, obviously noticing him tense up at the sight of the mirror.

"It's nothing…" Tom replied, stiffly. His eyes lingered for a moment at their reflections in the mirror and then quickly darted away. With the group surrounding the mirror it must not work properly. No one was staring at it with a sense of wonder and amazement, like he had when he first saw it. They merely examined their reflections and spread about the room looking for the reason they were all there. Except Frankie.

She frowned, arms crossed, and stayed put at his side. Tom's lying was certainly getting worse. Frankie hadn't believed that weak lie for one second and was certainly in no mood for any further secrets. He knew something about the mirror he wasn't about to tell her without vehement persuasion.

"Out of my way!" she huffed, suddenly pushing him aside. Tom instinctively grabbed her arm to stop her, despite the rude gesture and attitude.

"Don't go near that thing!"

"Then, tell me what it does."

"I don't know. I don't know what it does." he answered. She glared at him with disgust and Tom realized he would need to tell her what he knew and what had happened. "I came here once last year. I was conflicted and, when I looked inside the mirror, I thought I saw the future…"

"A mirror that shows the future—"

"That's what I thought, but I don't think that anymore."

"Why not?" Frankie questioned, huffily. She was clearly too agitated to speak with him, so Tom reached into his bag and retrieved the journal.

"If you really don't feel like talking with me, ask your mother!" he snapped back, unable to bare her hostility any longer. He shoved it in her hands and walked a few feet away for a moment to angrily simmer.

_When you face the mirror, you must face the truths and desires you try desperately hide. _

_When Francis faced the mirror, he claimed to see himself winning the Triwizard Tournament. A very fat chance he can do it, but a plausible desire for him to have right now. Cora said she saw her family with grins that weren't malicious or murderous. I wonder if he sees that too…_

_Albus says he sees himself holding a nice pair of socks. That is all (and for some reason I don't doubt him)._

_When I faced the mirror, I saw only myself, like I always have when I'm talking with him. It can't possibly be accurate, though. Maybe it's because I want so much. There's no way a mirror, even such a large one, could possible contain all of my desires and none of them shine above the rest._

"Finally, something that'll force you to tell the truth." Frankie retorted, once she finished reading the passage. She closed the book and practically shoved it into Tom's chest. "You can go last, if it's such a struggle."

People were more up to confessing then they should've been. They thought the mirror was another extraordinary magical object to toy with, rather than something making them confess their deepest desires. Of course, then again, they were a bunch of pre-teens. Most of them were childhood dreams that still had plenty of time to come true. Magical jobs, dream pets, something as simple as a new pair of socks. The only two with any juice to their confessions were the two elephants in the room who stayed at least seven feet away from each other, glaring at the other one to go first.

"Go on, you stubborn idiot." she snapped at him.

"You go!" Tom snapped back, childishly, unable to think of any other comeback. Frankie replied with another irritated huff and reluctantly approached the mirror.

"I see my mother, my father, and…" she started, after taking the initial glance. However, Frankie hesitated for a moment as she gazed deeper into the mirror, seemingly perplexed and memorized by the images within. She quickly snapped out of it though and looked away. "My sister. That's all. I want my _real_ family back."

The obvious jab stung Tom, however, he didn't have any witty comeback to protect himself with, so he just let the pain in. It was finally his time to approach the mirror. Although, he had prolonged his time with lots of arguing, suddenly after hearing what was in Frankie's version of the mirror he had no fear admitting what was in his. Even though it was not the same as what he saw.

"It's the same as last year. The only family I have is standing beside me and my magic is great. That's all I need." Tom announced to the mirror. It was vague, but not technically a lie. Everyone knew who he meant by family and his claim for great magic could be a thousand different things no one would ever guess what he really meant.

Tom stepped away from the mirror and waited for a silent moment for something to happen. Then, obliging the moment, gravity fell and the group started ominously floating upwards. It didn't seem all that bad, until they started spinning in a twister-like wind current that appeared out of nowhere. Slowly at first, but then a lot more rapidly. Surprisingly, a loud booming voice could still be heard above the vicious gust.

"_SOMEONE IS LYING!"_

"Who lied?" Prue shouted, having taken shelter in a nearby window frame to stop from spinning about the room like everyone else.

"Who do you think?" Frankie managed to reply, being practically the only one close enough to hear her. She shot a bitter look at Tom across the room.

"It wasn't me! I swear!" Tom replied, truthfully. "I honestly don't need anything else."

Everyone just twirled. Clearly, it was not going to stop until a truthful confession was made. Guilt swarmed the untruthful party till she screamed in agony, unable to take it any longer.

"Okay! It was me. I'm the liar! I didn't see my sister. I saw _Tom Riddle_." Frankie shouted, so everyone could hear her. She held on to wall hanging, until a baffled looking Tom came around. She clasped hands with him and finally looked at him without eyes clouded with anger and hatred. "I need you too. Please don't make me go..."

Suddenly, the world stopped spinning and everyone was dropped back to the stone floor with a thud so hard they literally broke through the floor into a black abyss. Gravity returned and they fell like normal. There was a lot of screaming, considering the magic they knew would not be advanced to save them. Thankfully, whoever was waiting down there for them, had greater magic and they were dropped onto the ground very daintily for a seventy foot drop into depths of god knows where. However, none of that mattered to tom in the moment. He kept tight to Frankie's hand, which he had miraculously kept hold of through all the chaos, as other people began lighting the area with their wands. The second she saw his hand on hers she swiped her's away.

"Frankie, I—"

"I'm sorry. I'm still not ready to forgive you." Frankie found the orb of light with Dylan and the Gryffindor girls attached to it and ran to join them.

"You two need to talk. You're making it really awkward in here." Jacob whispered to Tom, unfortunately not being the only one to have witnessed the embarrassing scene.

"I'm sorry my personal hell is inconveniencing you. _Lumos_." Tom mumbled, bitterly. He flicked his wand and the tip illuminated as well to add light to their cloud. Whoever had helped them down was nowhere in sight. However, another mysterious door in a glowing light told him that they were not far. They were at the end of Gryffindor's task. Despite this being Frankie's founder's mission, Tom was the impatient one who thrust open the door.

He held everyone back for what was a potentially dangerous encounter. A proud lion sat in a nest of crimson hangings, surrounded by floating wisps of warm light. thankfully, instead of bearing his fangs, he opened his mouth to speak:

"Greetings, my children. I am Aslan."

While everyone else was stunned silent and instead of doing something sensible, like running, Tom bowed to him.

"I'm Tom Riddle, a blood descendent of Salazar Slytherin. On behalf of my ancestor, I would like to apologize—"

"Rise," Aslan commanded, in a surprisingly kind voice for what was supposed to be an order. Tom obeyed. It was like he was the Dumbledore of lions, except his calm tone did not anger Tom, like it would've it was coming out of Dumbledore's mouth. "There's no need to apologize, dear boy. Your ancestor was a good man. Now, where's Gryffindor's heir?"

"I'm Frankie Dickson." she answered, pushing to the front of the crowd and presenting herself with a small curtsey.

"A daughter of Gryffindor, if I ever saw one. Welcome, it's very nice to meet you. It's been a while since I met someone from Godric's line. I believe your father was the last."

"It's nice to meet you too, sir." Frankie smiled. She looked around with a little more curious sense. What was a talking lion doing hidden in the depths of the school? "What're you doing in here, if you don't mind me asking? This doesn't seem like the place to keep a lion. Are you trapped?"

"No, I'm not like the Basilisk. Godric has not caged me here with false ideals of loyalty. I'm free to roam. I only return home when I am needed." Aslan replied.

"The Basilisk? You know the Basilisk. It's actually real?" Tom questioned, at once. Out of all the things he couldn't find good research on the Basilisk was at the top of his list. Most of the information about the monster was bound in the restricted book section, which no sensible teacher would write him a pass for in a million years.

"As real as you and I, unfortunately. Sometimes I still hear its horrible hissing late at night." Aslan explained. He gave a tiny shudder, thinking of the horrible creature. "It knows about you boy. It knows who you are and has been watching your moves."

"So, it knows what we've been up too?"

"Yes, and the basilisk isn't happy you've chosen this path. It almost killed Cora for bringing others down into its den and will do the same to you if you attempt it."

"What do we do?"

"Would you mind if I speak alone to Godric's descendent for a moment?" Aslan added, speaking to Tom and the group behind him. They all obliged diligently and started shuffling back out the door into the darkness. Once the door was closed and there were surely no eavesdroppers, he continued to speak solely to Frankie. "I know you will fight me on this. But, if you really insist on going down to see the Basilisk, Tom must do it on his own."

"No! He tried to do this on his own too and he almost died!"

"The Basilisk is a loyal creature. It won't kill him since he is of Salazar's line." he assured her. "Although, it is incredibly weary of his motives, Tom might just be able to strike up a deal with it if he plays his cards right."

"Why are you telling this to me and not Tom?"

"Simply because of what happened here today. There's a higher probability of you going after him, if you're left in the dark."

"It's all his fault. He shouldn't have kept secrets from me!" Frankie snapped. Did nobody understand what this meant to her? She had people who would've snatched her six-year-old self up in a heartbeat. So, why was she thirteen and still stuck in an orphanage? Yeah, it was mostly Dumbledore's fault and she would surely get to him later. But, Tom had known for a whole month and, instead of telling her the truth, he ran away like a coward. That hurt her just as badly. "Do you know what he's done?"

"No…but I know, whatever it may be, there is always room for forgiveness. It's not as if he doesn't care about you, my dear. It's just sometimes terrible secrets find us and hold us hostage." Aslan explained. "You don't have to accept an apology, but at least listen to one. Hear the boy out before you hex him."

"Fine…"

"What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Salazar's Heir, if you don't mind me asking?" he inquired, suddenly. He surely must've noticed the hint of caring under the layer of what seemed like clear hatred. It was a curious relationship.

"We are friends." she replied, simply.

"Forgive me for my boldness, but I believe the boy cares for you a little more than that," Aslan added, cautiously. "How do you really feel about him?"

"I love him." Frankie found herself saying, quite boldly. Although, she was young and not supposed to really know of such a feeling, she was certain of what was between them. The reason she got so cross with him for lying to her, so flustered of the other girl's insinuations, was because it was true love. He had done so much for her over their time together, that saying 'like' wouldn't nearly be enough. She was in love with Tom. It was as simple as that. "Before coming here, he was all the comfort that I've ever known."

"—And he will continue to be that comfort for as long as you wish, but you need to think about what's best for yourself. A girl your age needs a real family to support her."

Aslan left her to simmer on their conversation, opening the door and letting the kids, who clearly had their ears up against the door trying to tune in on the private conversation, fall to the floor. Tom was regrettably under that pile of eavesdroppers, looking guilty. Thankfully, because of the enchantment over the room had not heard Frankie's confession or anything else that had been said.

"Come children, I shall begin to lead you towards the exit. Let them follow later. They have much to discuss." Aslan smiled, much like Dumbledore would. Instead of scolding them for such devious behavior and he simply began to guide the rest of the group away. Tom, assuming the moment had finally come to talk and he was the one meant to stay behind, joined a perplexed Frankie.

"Okay, we can talk now." Frankie sighed, quickly jogging back to reality and shutting behind them. Finally, they were alone and could talk properly about this mess. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Eventually, I just didn't know how. Trust me, I wanted to tell you terribly," Tom answered, sounding a little desperate and eager, trying to justify his actions. Although, he knew he had done wrong. He should've told her right away. "It drove me crazy having to keep one of Dumbledore's precious secrets. I don't know how he does it, without going completely insane—"

"I won't go." she said, suddenly, cutting across all his frantic excuses. He blinked at her bizarre words, as if she'd just spoken a different language. However, her face was stony and serious.

"What was that?"

"I'm not going with either of them." Frankie repeated, with a little more grit in her voice. "You all seem to have forgotten the decision is _mine_ to make. And I choose to keep things exactly as they are."

"But you have a golden opportunity to be rid of Wool's Orphanage. The chance to be with a real magical family who loves you, and grow up in this world," Tom reasoned, even though she was saying exactly what he wanted to hear. He would not let her throw this away. She didn't need to explain her decision, Tom knew it was all because of him. "Don't be an idiot and waste something like this for my sake."

"If you really felt that way, you would've just told me right away!" Frankie snapped. "You hate the orphanage far more than I do. What's going to happen to you, if I leave you alone there again with all those horrible people?"

"I'll survive, like I've always done in the past." Tom assured her. It would be a hard life without her, but she would be happy and that was all that mattered in the end. His happiness was never something that important. "Please do this for me. I won't ask you again."

"I promise nothing. Not until I meet them." she snapped.

"Okay." he sighed, figuring that was the closest he was going to get with her.

As if right on que, Aslan returned. They followed him towards the exit, which ended up leading them out a portrait in the 3rd floor corridor. Before saying their goodbyes, Tom made sure he asked for some of the lion's thick mane so their journey wasn't a waste. After cutting off a tuft, they bid the lion farewell and quickly rushed to get back to a non-forbidden area of the castle. They were walking downstairs towards supper, when Tom felt the sudden need to grab her hand. Frankie was still angry with him, despite just having talked most of their problems out. There was one thing he still needed to say that he hadn't yet.

"I'm sorry, Frankie." Tom added, suddenly. "You know I'll always be here for you, right? No matter what happens."

"Promise?" she inquired, holding out the pinky on her other hand.

"I promise." he smiled, interlocking his pinky with hers. "You do know you're going to still be in London, right? I'm still going to be stuck with you for the entire summer."

"Right, we've been taking this separation way too seriously."

They laughed and everything was well for a good moment. Unfortunately, that little bubble of happiness was instantly popped, when they found Dumbledore waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. He immediately noticed their intertwined hands and sighed, knowing what it meant. It was not that he didn't want them to stay together. The opposite, in fact. He'd kept her at the orphanage for his own selfish reasons, but what she and Tom had created made him feel a little less guilty about his actions. However, now all that must change. Despite what they thought, this decision would rip them apart.

"Come along, my dear. We'd better start making arrangements…"


End file.
